The Gateway
by theonewhoburnedthesun
Summary: Inspired by Spirited Away - Every so often, a gateway between our world and the Spirit World opens. Unable to contact her past lives & growing desperate, Korra seeks to use the gate to go straight to the source. Meanwhile, Amon conspires to capture the Avatar indefinitely...though he carries dangerous doubts. AU, Cannon until episode 7. AMORRA. M for All consensual smut
1. Part I An Opening

**A/N:** After reading some amazing Amon/Korra fanfiction, I have most definitely jumped onto S.S. Amorra. This story _might_ continue, as I've decided to publish it here on a whim. There just aren't enough consensual Amorra fanfictions out there and I plan to deliver.

I plan - emphasis on **plan** - on making this only several very chunky chapters. They will progressively become **_surreal_** as the story goes on, as the Spirit World will mess with the mind. So put your cactus juice glasses on, because I fully intend for things to get funky.

**_I don't own these characters or Legend of_**** Korra.** I would like to note that this story is partially inspired by _Spirited Away_, a movie that, if you haven't already, you must watch. It's a classic.

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_"Angels are spirits, flames of fire; they are higher than man, they have wider connections."_

**Matthew Simpson**

**.**

**.**

**-/ Gateway Part I /-**

The dream began the same as it usually did.

**.**

**.**

Korra lays her head on the soft downy pillow at the end of her bed, hugging another pillow in her arms as she lets her eyes flutter shut. The warmness of her blanket envelops her, making her feel safe. Secure. A smile curls on her lips, for it seems her worries are drifting away with her consciousness.

The wind suddenly thrashes open her shutters, causing Korra to start, gasping as she sits up in bed. Moonlight illuminates her bedroom floor as it cascades through the small oval window next to her bed. She sees nothing but shadows, but she smells him.

The room fills with the thick scent of sweat and men's cologne, giving Korra a sense of déjà vu. She had inhaled this air before; the tingling sensation in her nostrils associated the smell with fear.

Korra feels her heart racing, thumping erratically against her ribcage. All illusions of safety have faded, lost in another moment. Against her own instinct—some intuition—she rises from her bed and goes toward the window.

She peaks out, seeing nothing but the darkness and a crescent moon in the sky. The wind blows softly; the slightly frigid air only kisses her cheeks.

Exhaling shakily, Korra closes the shutters and bows her head, exhaustion haunting her.

Then a deep, resonating chuckle fills the room.

Korra inhales sharply, turning around, seeing a figure approaching her from the shadows. She knows who it is before the mask is visible.

"_Amon_," she whispers, a scream hitching in her throat. Paralyzed, she backs against the wall, sliding to the floor as she looked up at the masked man.

Amon pulls back his hood and brushes the side of his porcelain mask thoughtfully. "You knew this was coming," he tells her, crouching down before her. Korra does not move, despite the voice in her head pleading for her to run. To scream. To fight.

Seeds of helplessness are planted in her mind, engulfing her will as she gazes into the pale blue eyes barely concealed by the slits of the mask.

"Please," she breathes, surprised that she was able to speak at all. Amon tilts his head, laughing darkly as a hand approaches her face.

His fingers touch Korra's cheek, lightly at first, but Amon's fingers glide to her chin and squeeze her roughly, forcing her to look into his eyes.

Though she cannot see his face, she knew he was smiling. A flicker of black humor fills his eyes, making her heart pound even harder.

"You will be cleansed," Amon says, growling more than speaking. As he grips her face, his other hand comes to her forehead. Steadying Korra's neck, Amon roughly digs his thumbnail into her forehead.

"_I'm saving you for last."_ Words fill her mind, unfamiliar images of fire and ice pulsating as she begins to cry. Korra no longer has the strength to hold back her fear. Sobs wrack through her, she pleads, she begs—she feels no shame in doing it.

_"Please, Amon."_

**.**

**.**

Korra plunged from her bed as her own deafening screams woke her from her nightmare. Painful sobbing filled her ears she frantically looked around her room. She was alone; no one was there.

The realization that she had been dreaming was not enough to quiet her. The furious tears that poured down her cheeks dampened her face. Korra clawed at her throat as she tried to stop crying—the gasps between her moans did not satiate her need to breathe.

"Korra!" she heard over her sobs, startling her and making her draw fire into her fists. She threw them toward the door, screaming in fear as she curled up on her bed.

"Please!" she shrieked, her voice cracking with terror. The figure approached her further, but she didn't have the strength to fight.

"It's just me," he announced, and as her blurry vision cleared she saw Tenzin. Heaving a sigh of relief, Korra threw her arms around him, burying her wet face in the nook of his shoulder. Tenzin ran his hands comfortingly down her back, soothing her fears as she began to quiet.

After a few minutes, he scooped Korra up and placed her back in bed, gently wrapping her blanket around her. Korra looked up at him, vision still blurry from her tears.

"I will stay here," Tenzin offered, squeezing her hand comfortingly.

Korra sniffled, shaking her head. "I'll be fine."

His eyebrows pinched together doubtfully as he released her hand. "You are safe here," he said curtly, bowing his head as left her room.

Korra had calmed down, no screaming, no gasping for air. Though, despite herself, she continued to cry silent tears as she rested her head on her soft pillow.

She knew, just like every other time, the same nightmare would not haunt her twice in one night.

**.**

**.**

Korra raked a hand through her hair as she gazed down into her bowl. Filled with plum-colored sea prunes and wheat noodles, her stomach twisted uncomfortably. The dish was her favorite, but she had no appetite.

"Korra, dear, aren't you hungry?" Pema sat adjacent to her, hazel eyes gazing softly at Korra as she smiled.

Korra shook her head, forcing a grin as she picked up her chopsticks. "Not really."

Nodding in understanding, Pema absentmindedly rubbed a palm over her round pregnant belly. "Your nightmares seem to be getting worse," she observed quietly.

Blushing, Korra rolled her slender wooden chopsticks between her index finger and thumb, eying the intricate patterns down them. "I'm fine," she mumbled.

"Daddydaddydaddyyyyy!" Meelo called, running into the dining room with arms flinging in the air. Behind him, Ikki followed suit on a small air scooter, steering around the table with a grin until she plopped down on her seat cushion. Jinora calmly entered, eyes barely visible as she held a thick leather-bound book to her face.

"No airbending inside," Pema warned her children, waving a finger at Ikki who giggled defiantly.

Larger footsteps came after as Tenzin paced into the dining room, taking a seat next to Pema and greeting her pregnant belly with a soft stroke.

"Good morning," he said politely, glancing around the table. "How are you feeling, Korra?"

Korra didn't hear Tenzin speaking to her, as she was engrossed with her food. Eyes faraway, she poked the sea prunes in her bowl, slightly disgusted at the greenish juice that seeped out of them.

"Korra?" he repeated more firmly.

Looking up, she shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "I'm fine."

Pema and Tenzin exchanged a worried expression.

"Oh, Tenzin," Pema muttered, reaching down to the floor to pick up a sheaf of folded paper. "Here is the morning newspaper."

He thanked her as he took it, unfolding the black and white writing as he took a long drink of hot tea.

Breakfast was relatively quiet except for the children who, as they usually did, played with their food and chatted about fairytale creatures. Despite her uneasiness, Korra forced herself to eat, propping her elbow on the table to hold up her face. Sleep didn't come easy after she had her nightmare, and she couldn't help but let her eyes flutter shut as she ate her sea prunes.

"This is concerning." Tenzin suddenly speaking startled Korra from her haze, causing her to drop her chopsticks that hung loosely from her fingers.

"What is it, dear?" Pema prompted, tilting her head warily. Korra half-listened, still suffering from fatigue.

"Damen Shi, a village about thirty miles north of Republic City, has vanished," Tenzin said carefully, voice shaded with worry. He gazed down at the newspaper, quoting the article. "'Damen Shi, a village built approximately twenty years ago upon discovery of precious minerals being located in the area, has been a stop on most overland trade routes since its founding. In the past, rumors of spiritual invasions have haunted the village.

"'These rumors have been considered false until three days ago, when a caravan of farmers arrived in Damen Shi, only to discover the town has been completely abandoned,'" Tenzin spoke, eyes widening, shaking his head in disbelief. "'Traditionalists believe that the town's residents were consumed by the Spirit World; however, authorities are still investigating the possibility of a small-scale invasion of the area—a direct attack on the United Republic of Nations."

Korra listened with rapt attention to the story, her drained condition fading.

"They found no one?" Pema asked, raising her eyebrows in disbelief. Tenzin shook his head, folding the newspaper and laying it on the table. "What do you think it means?"

"I am inclined to believe the latter theory," he replied, folding his hands in his lap. "That somehow, the Spirit World swallowed everyone in town. Some sort of invasion would leave more evidence—at least one person left to tell the story. It is in the nature of conquerors to spread fear that way."

"Has that ever happened before?" Korra spoke up, eying Tenzin. His brown eyes glinted, his chin bowing as if it was not a story he wished to share.

"There have been rumors," he said softly.

Korra arched an eyebrow suspiciously. "Enlighten us."

Tenzin through a glance down the table, jaw tightening as he looked at his children. He placed a hand over Pema's, squeezing it softly.

"Would you stay with the children? I do not wish them to hear this story." Pema nodded, releasing his hand as he stood. He gestured for Korra to follow him. "Come with me."

**.**

**.**

"It has happened before," Tenzin finally said as they entered the meditation area of the Air Temple, their footsteps patting against the panels of wood.

"It has?" Korra asked hesitantly, feeling a shiver run up her spine, a thought caressing her mind. She knew something, but couldn't recall what it was. She remembered, except the words and images to form the memory escaped her.

They both sat down, Korra folded her legs under her as she nodded for Tenzin to continue. "It was shortly before Avatar Aang died," Tenzin went on, stroking his beard. "A smaller, less known village called Yu Do in the Southern Earth Kingdom vanished, just as the newspaper described of Damen Shi.

"My father received a letter from a resident, who had been traveling to Ba Sing Se when the disappearance occurred. Her family gone, she asked Aang to investigate the village—as she believed there to be spirits at work." Tenzin sighed, his eyes far off. "Father didn't tell me much of what happened, except that he was taken to the Spirit World."

Korra gaped, shaking her head. "I thought you got into the Spirit World by meditating?" she asked quietly.

"It was different," Tenzin murmured darkly. "Not only was his spirit taken, his body was too."

Korra gaped. "How is that possible?"

Eyes flickering, Tenzin bowed his head. "I do not know."

Korra cradles her face in her hands, mulling over the thought. Could everything she assumed be incorrect? Perhaps meditation wasn't the _only_ way to contact the Spirit World—her past lives.

The realization hit her, a smile growing on her lips. "I should go to Damen Shi!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. She could go there, take a walk around, get sucked into the Spirit World and chat it up with all the past Avatars—they could help her learn airbending and defeat Amon—

"Absolutely not," Tenzin interrupted her thoughts firmly, his brown eyes widening at her words.

Korra's face fell, eyebrows pulling together. "But—"

Tenzin stood quickly, brushing off his robes and shaking his head. "I should not have planted thoughts in your mind," he muttered regretfully. Korra stood quickly, trying to catch up with him as he walked away.

"Hey! I deserve to know these things!" she protested, voice filling with anger as she padded behind him.

"You are too young to address this matter, Korra," he said roughly, suddenly stopping to turn around. His expression was slightly pained, Korra noted. Almost fearful…

"What am I addressing? I need to learn airbending, and maybe if I went to the Spirit world I could learn!"

"You don't understand, Korra," Tenzin said, quieter. He placed a hand on her shoulders as he exhaled. "The journey nearly killed Avatar Aang."

Korra's lips tightened as she looked to the floor. Aang was a master of all four elements, and very spiritual. "How?"

"Like I said, he didn't explain what happened fully. Only that the town was a direct gate to the Spirit World, which is a very devious place to begin with. Without your body being anchored to this world, you can die." Tenzin released Korra and crossed his arms. "You mustn't go to Damen Shi, Korra," he told her, before turning around and walking away.

Standing alone in the hall of the Air Temple, she turned to face the window. As she saw a White Lotus ferry loading boxes into the cargo hold, she smiled slightly to herself.

When would adults learn that telling Korra not to do something was the least effective way to keep her from doing it?

**.**

**.**

The mask was part of him.

Buckled to his face, the porcelain was flush with all his features. The bridge of his nose protruded at the same angle as the false nose on his mask. The slits for his eyes were just wide enough to let his blue irises reflect the light, but still conceal the white scar tissue that bordered his eye socket.

He hadn't looked at his face in years. He presumed that not seeing one's face for such a long time was abnormal, but his scars disgusted him. Before he became malformed, he was handsome. He was also shallow. He never procured affections from any woman who wasn't as attractive as him. That was his code. He still remained shallow, but only toward himself. The mask he wore concealed his secret. His ugliness. His shame.

He stroked the side of his mask, the surface cool to the touch. His mask had become an extension of his fractured soul, part of his cause. His revenge. He would redeem all that was taken with this mask.

He was a symbol.

The mask was part of him.

**.**

**.**

"Amon," the words broke him from his train of thought, agitating him slightly.

"What is it?" Amon sat at his desk, hands folded neatly over one another. Professional, not thoughtful. He was the leader.

His lieutenant stepped forward, handing him a stack of papers as he bowed his head slightly in apology. "These are the reports you asked for on the Avatar."

"Yes," Amon said simply, taking the notes. He did not thank his subordinate, for being their leader made them in his debt. He thumbed through the paper, skimming the latest entries. "It says here the Avatar has stowed away on a White Lotus cargo ship?" He read the paragraph more closely, the source coming from an Air Acolyte spy.

"Yes sir, she is being tracked at this moment," the lieutenant assured him. "The last report I received said she was heading north, out of the city."

Amon arched an eyebrow, but of course the lieutenant did not see. "Is that so?" He tossed the papers on his desk, leaning back in his chair. "Is she alone?"

"Yes sir. She only has her polar bear dog."

Sneering beneath his mask, Amon was not surprised. The Avatar and the dog were inseparable. Luckily, he had the skill to subdue even an animal that size easily. The only leverage it had was its size and teeth. Even its thick fur could not shield it from being electrocuted.

Sighing, Amon rose from his seat and raised his hood over his head. "Prepare a team of three men," he ordered the lieutenant. "And a motorcycle for me."

His subordinated bowed to Amon. "Yes sir."

He had promised to save her for last, but he could not let an opportunity such as this to go to waste. She might be the last, but Amon hadn't promised not to hold her captive until her time arrived.

**.**

**.**

Sneaking off the island went off without a hitch, and Korra twisted her hands in Naga's fur as they rode down the street. It was chilly, so Korra took the pelt that usually was tied at her waist and draped it over her shoulders. She pulled it over her lips so they wouldn't become chapped.

She had decided to go alone. Ignoring Tenzin's warning was _her_ choice; she wasn't going to drag her friends into yet another dangerous adventure.

The industrial part of the city was behind her as skyscrapers and warehouses faded into a more village-like scenery. She could see a snow-covered hill in the distance, which must have been outside the city based on the fact there were no buildings.

She saw a sign on the side of the road, illegible due to the snow. To verify she was going in the right direction, she slid off Naga's back and approached the sign. Brushing the cold flakes off in with the back of her hand, the emboldened letters became clear.

_Damen Shi – 27 miles_

Korra climbed back on her polar bear dog that, with the nudge of her foot, took off down the snow-covered road

**.**

**.**

Judging by the position of the sun in the sky, Korra judged it was about lunchtime. The last sign she had seen read that Damen Shi was about seven miles away, and she figured it was about time to eat anyways.

Better to go into the Spirit World on a full stomach, she supposed.

The road was empty—no sign of any carriages or Satomobiles—but Korra still thought it would be courteous to direct Naga off the road just in case traffic came along. She bended snow out of the way, revealing a patch of brown grass where Naga could lay down without being submerged in the bitter cold.

"You thirsty girl?" Korra asked, ruffling Naga's ears as she smiled under her pelt. She stomped her foot on the ground, created a cylinder of rock. She placed the palm of her hand in the middle, pushing downward. From the rock she created a water bowl—then she bended the snow into in a thick stream, filling it.

As Naga slurped the water, she ruffled through her saddlebag, finding some fish jerky wrapped in foil. Korra devoured the food, as her appetite had returned since earlier that morning. Mouth dry from the salty meat, she grasped her canteen and emptied it quickly, which she fixed by bending some water from the snow again, continuing the cycle until her thirst was satiated.

Naga whined softly, turning her head to Korra with pleading eyes.

"Oh, you want some jerky?" Korra laughed, feigning disbelief. She removed the remaining fish jerky from the foil and hand-fed it to her polar bear dog, stroking Naga's stomach as she happily ate Korra's leftovers.

**.**

**.**

Amon lowered his binoculars, slightly confused by the sight. Seldom had he seen her interact non-violently with his own eyes. The reports he received biweekly described the relationship she held with her animal guide, but he hadn't noticed the intensity of the bond she had with the dog.

For the slightest moment, she was just a girl who loved the animal.

Amon quickly heaved the destructive thought from his mind. She was not just a girl, she was a bender. And she was not just a bender, she was the Avatar.

Above all, she was his enemy.

**.**

**.**

Damen shi, was a snow-covered ghost town.

And it also wasn't what she imagined.

It was small, traditional wooden buildings bordered a grid of small, unpaved streets. At least, she thought they were unpaved—it was hard to tell when the snow lightly covered the ground.

There was no sign of life, no indication that the town had ever been inhabited. The footprints Naga's paws made were the only footprints to be seen.

She looked closer, realizing that she must have been in a residential district. On a porch of one house with a red metal roof, hung a stringed net. Korra recognized the talisman—in the Southern Water Tribe they called it a _yun li_. It was named for the spirit that guarded our world from the evil spirits that aspired to destroy it.

Almost every house had these talismans in one place or another. Some had several.

Korra grimaced. They must have been so afraid.

Emotion swelling in her chest, Korra leaned down to Naga. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this."

She narrowed her eyes as she pushed Naga forward. This journey was no longer just about contacting her past lives, but to investigate what happened to the unfortunate souls that once inhabited Damen Shi.

**.**

**.**

Music.

Where was it coming from?

Naga galloped through the streets as Korra listened hard for the sound of saxophones and pianos that whistled in the air. Was someone still here? Did they not know it wasn't safe to be here?

Though it couldn't have been past 4 o'clock, the sky had darkened. The sky was thick with clouds as snow poured from the sky in heaps. The wind billowed, creating static in her ears, but she still could still feel the music.

She felt it more than she heard it.

**.**

**.**

"Leave the motorcycles here." Amon slid the kickstand of his two-wheeled machine flush to the ground, propping it up as he slung his leg over the side. Removing his helmet and brushing the snow that collected in the crook of his neck, he observed his small team. Dressed in the their chiblocker uniforms, green goggles strapped to their faces, he smirked slightly.

He extended an arm down an alleyway. "Spread out, keep hidden. Do not approach unless she subdues me.

"Though, I'm certain she will not," he adds smugly, traveling in the opposite direction of his subordinates.

**.**

**.**

Korra found the source of the music.

A small warehouse in the western corner of the town stuck out like a sore thumb. It was industrial, not unlike the warehouses in Republic City. This one, however, was smaller. Tin walls extended about twenty feet in the air; no windows, only a large double-door on the side facing the street. The doors were bound by a thick metal chain, slightly rusted and partially frozen by snow that accumulated in its crevices.

The music resonated against the metal; the jazzy music sounded more like a faint echo as she approached. She thought that was strange—the music being quieter as she came closer.

Almost hypnotized, the thought slipped from her mind as fast as it came. Korra slid off Naga's back, examining the chain on the warehouse doors. Narrowing her eyes, she hovered an index finger above the metal.

Focusing, a small spark flickered on the end of her finger, a flame growing slowly as she exhaled. She concentrated the flame, like a blowtorch, and began sever the chain.

**.**

**.**

Amon watched from downwind, so that her dog would not catch his scent.

The sun had completely disappeared from the sky, concealed by the thick blackening clouds. In the darkness, he observed her firebending. She was focusing the flame into a thin stream of continuous heat, as a welder would. Disgust licked at his throat—typical that she perverted the art to do something that one could accomplish without bending. As he predicted, someone so young and naïve did not deserve the gifts.

Yet, he couldn't help but stare at the flickering blue flame. Amon had never seen someone produce such a small, concentrated stream of fire.

She may have been young, but she was strong.

She extinguished the flame, and through the darkness he saw a smile spread on her lips with satisfaction. She began to pull open the doors to the warehouse, the hinges shrilling loudly under the sound of the wind.

He would take care of the polar bear dog, and then he would corner the Avatar.

**.**

**.**

The doors protested as Korra tugged at the metal handles. Their resistance was more than expected; ducking her head, she noticed that the hinges were rusted. Once a substantial opening was created, she slithered through.

"Stay here Naga," she instructed through the crack, reaching out an arm. Naga whined and licked her fingers, sitting down reluctantly.

Korra withdrew her hand and spun around.

The music had stopped, she realized.

It was very dark, except for the small amount of light glided through the small opening in the door. She summoned a flame in her hand, which helped, but not much.

The warehouse was filled with hefty wooden crates, large enough to encase a Satomobile. Korra approached the box and used her free hand to lift the lid. At first, she didn't see anything spectacular—except for a bunch of rocks. She moved the flame closer to the box, careful to make sure the fire didn't touch the wood and burn the whole place down.

Light flickered of the rocks, and Korra inhaled sharply, eyes widening. With the light illuminating the inside, the flickering fire shone on the precious stones, dancing as white, yellow, and red light refracted onto her face. She scooped her hand inside, cupping a fist full of the stones. Gently rolling them between her fingers, she was hypnotized. Korra had never been materialistic, but a foreign instinct came over her, whispering promises of riches and prosperity.

_Greed, _a stronger voice whispered harshly in her mind, causing her to drop the stones. Immediately after she released them, she no longer wanted them.

"These must be cursed or something," she muttered to herself, shutting the box sharply and sighing.

Korra was about to investigate the other crates to see if they were filled with stones as well, but started when she heard a yelping outside the warehouse, causing her flame to go out.

"Naga!" Korra called, reeling as she sprinted to the door, slinking through the crack once again. She held out a hand and sparked a flame, frantically looking around—squinting through the blanket of white. "Naga!" she called again, voice cracking as her throat thickened in fear.

"Your pet will be fine, young Avatar." Korra froze, hearing the husky voice from behind her. She didn't have to turn around to know from whose lips the voice came; the same tone and timbre haunted her dreams almost every night. "Though, I cannot say that you bear the same fate."

The threat electrified her, as it was coated with promises of pain and failure.

She had faced Amon before.

This time, however, she was alone. There was no possibility of escape without Naga.

Terror enveloped every inch of her as she realized Amon had her.

**.**

**.**

He had her right where he wanted her.

Though her back still faced him, Amon knew she was petrified. The waves of horror rolled off her like a scent; the Avatar's hands were trembling, and it was not from the cold.

He came up slowly behind her, placing a hand on the crook of her neck, the exact place he would need to strike to paralyze her. She flinched at his touch, but she didn't run. The pressure caused her pelt cape to untie and fall from her shoulders to the ground. Her neck was now bare, the light brown skin covered in goose bumps. Without quite thinking, he brushed his thumbs over the bumps, only causing the patch to thicken. The bitter breeze licked his bare hand as he continued this motion.

What had come over him?

This is just a game, stirring the young Avatar until she broke, he thought to himself. It was working.

A corner of his mind, the corner he chose to ignore, was morbidly curious to what her skin felt like.

He couldn't ignore the curiosity. Her skin was quite soft.

**.**

**.**

Korra's mouth opened slightly and she felt sick as the rough pads of Amon's fingers brushed her neck. Why couldn't she move? Why couldn't she fight?

Any moment, he'll whip his fingers across her pressure points, and then he will win.

Isn't he already winning?

Korra thought of her nightmare, something she had forbade herself to do when she was awake. What harm could it do, if it were coming true? Paralyzed by her own fear, the mere sensations of his fingers sending her into a state of utter shock.

No screams in her throat. Only tears.

Cold tears, she thought quietly. The cold. The snowflakes hitting her skin.

_Warm._ Her body needed warmth. Without summoning a flame, her hands filled with subtle fire. The sensation of the flames made every nerve in her body go haywire, and with a sharp inhalation of cold air, she turned around.

She struck his porcelain face with fists full of fire.

**.**

**.**

He hadn't predicted her retaliation, but Amon was by no means underprepared.

As she plunged her fiery fists toward his face, he easily bent is knees and dodged the blow. The move was sloppy, but powerful nonetheless. She spun on her heel, sending a blade of orange and white toward him, which he took in strife to the metal plate across his chest.

The Avatar stomped her foot into the ground and struck the air, rippling the earth beneath them. Amon jumped in the air, diving towards the girl. She didn't anticipate his bold move, and let out a scream when he struck her neck. Disabling her, he took two fingers on each hand and began to stab her pressure points. Her limbs went limp, causing her knees to fold beneath her.

She made a choking sound as she looked up at him, face contorted in pain. To be honest, Amon did not revel in fear. Part of him regretted that it was a necessary tactic.

Gazing down at the young Avatar before him, he cocked his head.

"This time, you were not underestimated," he told her, kneeling on one knee and gripping her chin. He stared relentlessly into her widened blue eyes, seeing her terror increase tenfold.

A pleasant moment washed over him as he noted her eyes were a beautiful shade of blue.

Her lips parted slightly, but words did not come out.

Amon felt almost doubtful when he felt her tears dripping down his fingers.

"Please," she finally squeaked, eyes fluttering shut.

He tilted her chin down, and gently cupped her cheek.

"It's not your time," he spoke eloquently, releasing her face and giving a final blow to the top of the Avatar's spine, numbing her body and causing her to tumble forward.

Catching her, Amon threw the girl over his shoulder, wrapping his arms around her legs. It was when the silence came that he realized there was music playing.

Soft, melodic, dark, the sound of a grand piano and a violin filled his ears—harmoniously dancing under the blowing of the wind.

It came from inside the warehouse that the Avatar had inspected. There couldn't be anyone inside—not when the town was so completely abandoned. Amon kept up with the news, and the fact Damen Shi was a ghost town wasn't a secret.

The music made him doubtful. He had to find the music.

Still balancing the Avatar's body on his shoulder pad, he opened the door to the warehouse wider than she had earlier. Striding inside, Amon looked around, surrounded by darkness.

The darkness stayed with him, wrapping around him as he tightened his grip on the Avatar. He inhaled incisively as he realized there was no weight on his shoulders, no Avatar.

He was in the darkness, alone. This he was sure of.

No music, no Avatar.

Nothing.


	2. Part II Through the Gate

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who reviewed my first chapter! I'm posting this one hesitantly; I still haven't completely hammered out the storyline.

Just repeating what I said previously: **parts of this chapter, and the rest of the story perhaps,** are meant to be **surreal**.

With that said, ENJOY!

* * *

_In certain places, the Spirit World seems to conform closely to an area of the physical world, to the extent where a mortal making the transition might not immediately take notice of the difference._

**.**

**.**

**-/ Gateway Part II /-**

_Consciousness._

Where is she? Where is the Avatar? Grasping, pulling, running—she was just with him.

The blackness is overwhelming. He can't see.

Gasping for breath, he cannot feel his body. His hands. Numbness, as if submerged in ice cold water. The feeling was familiar.

His mind is frozen—moving slowly—thoughts coming ragged and dislocated.

Where is Korra?

He clings to that thought, desperately holding it close as he screams harshly.

_Don't let go._

Where is she? The frantic thought forces his heart to hammer quicker against his ribcage. The vibrations wrack through him. The numbness is fading.

Stumbling to his feet, he sprints as fast as his legs would allow.

His foot catches, gravity pulling him down fast.

_Impact._

His forehead smacks the ground, cold dirt embedding into his scalp. He had to find her—this thought rings the clearest in his mind. What is it that he is feeling? Rage? Worry? What angers him? For what is he worried?

_Korra._ The duality of opposing feelings fills him with an eruption of fire.

_Fire. _He remembers the fire, so much fire. It hurt him—red hot and flickering white as it blazed towards him. It was close, licking at his skin. Torturing him as he pleaded for death.

His face, was it gone? Charred away? He touches his face, feeling cold porcelain, shocked by the contrasting temperature against his fingertips.

The mask. Why did he wear it again?

**.**

**.**

Korra wrinkled her nose and grimaced. Why did it smell like lilies?

That hazy question soon slipped from her mind, as she suddenly became very aware that her body was sore. Her cheek throbbed as it pressed against the cold dirt ground, and her neck dissented as she tried to sit up.

Groaning, she rolled over on her back and inhaled deeply. She choked on the air, the floral sickly-sweet odor irritating her nose.

The question haunted her mind again, a fogginess obscuring her other thoughts:

Why did it smell like lilies?

She forced herself to sit up, the sides of her abdomen clenching as she exerted herself. It felt as if someone had battered her body with a crowbar. Too weak to open her eyes, Korra ran her hands down her stomach, and then her legs. She didn't feel any blood. Whatever happened to her, it must have hurt her more internally than externally.

Korra ordered her eyes open, expecting light when she did. However, she was met with black. The only light visible was a thin stream of silver slicing through the darkness. She steadied herself into a crouch and leaned toward the light. It washed over her face, making her squint, but the illumination was almost euphoric.

_Focus_. The command from the back of Korra's mind dissected her fascination. Where was she? How did she get here? The last thing she remembered... Darkness. This darkness. Everything else was a blur of confusion. Attempting grasp at a memory, her mind drew a blank.

Dizziness overwhelmed Korra as she rose from her squat, numbness in her calves as she stumbled forward, reaching to push the door. Before she could make it, the hinges groaned and the stream of light widened. Faltering back, she hugged her chest as a bitter gust of wind flooded the dark room. It stung her eyes, making her flinch.

"_Korra?_"

The voice called out to her again, sounding warped and bizarre. Focusing on the voice, it gained more clarity. She could tell it was masculine by its deep tenor, resonating as she narrowed her eyes against the wind.

A figure approached; the silhouette was tall and muscular, broad shoulders barring towards her as its voice called out again.

"Korra, what are you doing here?" Apprehension filled this man's voice, but it was also lined with subtle anger.

_Korra._ The name sounded vaguely familiar. Hearing it aloud brought back a wave of insecurity—images that weren't quite familiar plaguing her mind. Her heart raced. Was that her name?

The man was closer, and she could see his face. He was handsome, Korra contemplated as she eyed him with uncertainly. Had he hurt her? Was this man responsible for the soreness that surged through her body?

He was closer now, and her lips trembled. Why couldn't she speak? Why couldn't she move?

"Are you alright?" the man's voice broke into her thoughts, somehow comforting her. The moments before she had felt alone, but the proximity with another soul somehow warmed her. Though fears still haunted her.

Lips parting slightly, she forced herself to speak "Y-yes," Korra breathed, stuttering as she saw long fingers reaching toward her. She watched his fingers approach her skin, the heat of them radiating subtly before they even touched.

She gasped as his fingers cupped her cheek, sending chills down her body. Her eyes swiftly moved to his face, and she exhaled softly. Blue eyes, flicks of silver refracting in the dim light.

She knew these eyes, though she didn't recall from where.

Korra attacked the blue-eyed man.

As her fist collided with his hard jaw, he yelped and released her face, moving his fingers to clutch his own. Korra panted, adrenaline hastening through her veins. She glared down at her hand, the skin on her knuckles cracked and coated in a thick red substance.

Why had she hit him? He hadn't hurt her. The sensation of him touching her face was actually nice. Almost affectionate, like they had met before.

But his eyes…

"What the _hell_?" the man grunted, the softness of his voice fading as his voice became terse. Korra was struck with a stern realization that she had hurt him. Taking a small step forward, she reached out a hesitant hand.

"I—where am I? Who are you?" she whispered, trying to catch the man's eyes. Hunched over as he cupped his jaw, a large _crack_ echoed in the space and he cried out. Korra's stomach lurched; she had dislocated the man's jaw.

He sighed in relief and stood erect. "I will answer those questions later," he told her urgently, stretching out his arm again. "I promise to not hurt you as long as you don't hit me again."

Korra nodded, giving an apologetic expression. She gazed down at his hand, reaching hers out hesitantly to take it. Electricity rocked through her as they touched—he was so _warm_. Or maybe she was just cold.

The blue-eyed man watched her carefully as she examined their hands, eyebrows pinching together. "We must hurry," he murmured, tugging her arm gently.

"Okay." Korra tried to shake the blanket of doubt from her mind, even though his silver eyes haunted her thoughts.

**.**

**.**

"Do not open your eyes until I tell you to."

Korra tightened her grip around the man's hand, following his instructions wordlessly as she squeezed her eyes shut. After they exited the building she woke up in, they took a right and began to walk rapidly, the crunching of their footsteps the only sound to be heard beside the wind.

The man quickened his pace, his breathing becoming slightly exerted. Korra lengthened her strides to keep up with him, discomfort overwhelming her as she walked. She hated not being able to survey her surroundings—keeping her eyes shut as she walked was like suppressing her instincts.

"Just a little farther," the man whispered under his breath, and Korra nodded in response. She heard the squeaking of door hinges, making her jump, but she kept her eyes shut despite the curiosity swelling inside her.

Under her feet, she no longer felt the sensation of dirt crunching beneath her shoes, but the tapping of wood as it felt they were entering a building. Korra had forgotten how it felt not to feel the harsh wind lashing at her face—and exhaled with relief. The building was heated.

The man released her hand and cleared his throat. "You can open your eyes now."

**.**

**.**

All the walls were painted a light shade of gold, several candles strategically placed around the room to maximize illumination. The room had two small beds on opposite sides of the room, a dining table placed in the center—bordered with four velvet seat cushions.

Korra rubbed a hand against her forehead, a sudden splitting pain shooting through her head.

"Everything is blurry," she grumbled, looking up at the man. Those weirdly-light blue eyes watched her as he nodded.

"It's normal," he spoke carefully, voice sounding slightly unsure. "It will get better eventually." He placed a hand on her shoulder, gesturing to one of the beds gently. "You can lay down here."

"I'm not tired," she replied as she walked, taking a seat on the end of the bed instead. He did not sit next to her; instead, he towered over her expectantly.

Korra had questions, but she couldn't conjure the words to ask them. She wasn't _tired_, but her mind was foggy. Everything she thought she was _supposed _to know was filed away in her mind, unreachable.

"You do not get drowsy in the Spirit World. It's impossible to sleep," he informed her.

_Spirit World. _The words triggered a mine of memories, a chain reaction exploding in her mind. Gasping, names, faces came rushing back, almost overwhelming her. It was as if she were reliving her entire life in the span of seconds.

"My name—my name is Korra right?" she whispered softly, eyebrows pulling together as she looked up at the man. He sobered his face and nodded, kneeling down in front of her and taking her hands in his.

"Yes. Can you remember anything else?" His question was gentle. Korra's eyes fluttered shut as memories continued to flood her mind.

"I'm the Avatar. I'm from the Southern Water Tribe. My mother's name is Senna…my father's Tonraq," the words poured out of her mouth, almost with panic. She opened her eyes sharply and stared into the man's eyes. "How could I forget? Those aren't the kinds of things I would forget…" she trailed off.

He squeezed her hands comfortingly, eyes becoming softer. "When you first cross-over, it's easy to forget."

The haze thickened, his words making Korra slightly confused. "Cross-over?"

"Remember, you're in the Spirit World," he said gently.

Korra nodded in comprehension. "Oh, yeah, now I remember."

The man smiled, revealing brilliantly white teeth. "Good. Now do you remember your name?"

"My name is Korra," she replied, shocked by the hesitation in her voice. "My name is Korra." She repeated the phrase, her breaths becoming more labored and her chest tightening as she realized she was crying. She gripped the mans hands in her lap, hunching over as she tried to slow her breathes. With one hand, he brushed stray strands of Korra's hair from her face, delicately racking his fingers through her hair.

The gesture calmed her; his warm touch much more comforting to the words she whispered to herself. "_My name is Korra."_

**.**

**.**

"What is this placed called?" Korra asked quietly as she pressed the glass of water to her lips. The blue-eyed man had draped a blanked over her shoulders, trying to warm her, as they sat at the small dining table. "And why does it smell like flowers?" The scent that had filled her nose ever since she crossed over still irritated her.

The man chuckled as he took a seat across from her, folding his legs neatly on the velvet cushion. "The town, just like in your world, is called Damen Shi. And the smell of flowers will go away eventually—your senses haven't adjusted to the Spirit World yet." He smiled in amusement as he poured himself some crystalline water.

"Can't the spirits be a little more creative and come up with their own names?" Korra scoffed, rolling her eyes. She sobered suddenly, remembering whom she was with. "I'm sorry, that was offensive, wasn't it?"

Staring down at the table, the man shook his head with a small smirk. "No not at all," he murmured, looking up at Korra. "I'm not a spirit."

Korra sighed with frustration, anxiously scratching her neck. "I'm so confused."

"What I should say is I'm human, like you," he clarified.

Leaning forward and pulling her blanket tighter around her, Korra narrowed her eyes. "Are you one of the Damen Shi villagers who disappeared?" she asked, her voice lowering with a sense of urgency. She could remember, despite the thick fog that still shadowed her mind, that she had come to Damen Shi because…_someone_…told her it was a gate to the Spirit World. The village was empty, she recalled. Talismans were everywhere, trying to ward off the evil spirits. Sadness had itched at her, wondering where all those souls went. Maybe this man was one of them.

Tilting his head, the man's jaw tightened. For the first time since Korra met him, he seemed completely uncertain. "That I am not sure of." His voice was cautious, eyes thoughtful. "I don't think so."

"You mean you don't remember who you are?" The words were strangled in Korra's throat. "Can you remember _your_ name?"

She watched his lips tighten and his eyes flutter shut. "No, I cannot."

Struggling for breath, Korra became submerged in sweltering panic. Her mind reeled as she desperately clung to the things she _could_ remember. Her mother and father… Senna and Tonraq…she came from the Southern Watertribe…she had a pet polar bear dog—what was her pet's name? _Naga_, she found the name, relief washing over her as a tingling sensation caressed her mind. _My name is Korra._

"Please, don't be frightened," the man said as he reached out a hand, warning her mind not to venture any further down the path of dread. "I did not think to even try to remember, when I first arrived. No one told me that even the memory of my own name would fade if I did not chant it like a prayer…" his voice trailed off, eyes averting as he became filled with regret.

Without thinking, Korra extended a hand from beneath her blanket and placed her palm over top the man's. His amber eyes flickered, surprised by the gesture as he stared at their hands.

"I may not remember my original name, but they do call me Meng," he added quietly.

"Meng," Korra repeated, cocking her head and smirking faintly. "I like it."

He returned her smile and then awkwardly slid his hand from beneath hers, scratching the side of his head. Not really having a chance to take in the man's appearance before, Korra examined Meng's face. His jaw was long and square, his nose slightly round in a boyish way but it was proud—giving him an edge of maturity. His eyes were wide, round like almonds, framing his blue irises, which Korra found startlingly mesmerizing once she overcame her residual fear from crossing over. His hair was dark and glossy, curling delicately just above his ears.

Eyes trailing across his body, another more puzzling question entered her mind. "How do you remember my name, and not your own?"

Meng exhaled a deep sigh, forehead creasing as he thought. "I ask myself that same question, almost every day," he muttered breathily. Stroking a hand thoughtfully across his cheek, his eyes became far-off. "The first thing I can truly remember since I got here was wandering around the town. I was terrified, all the spirits roaming around and the _disgusting_ smell of lilies surrounding me, but I was looking for something. Desperately, searching. For you."

He stole a glance at Korra, gauging her reaction—trying to decide if he should continue. Korra listened closely to every word, enraptured by the ghostly passion that resonated with his deep voice.

"I don't even know why," Meng continued, aggravation filling his tone. "Eventually, I realized you were gone and gave up. It was then it occurred to me that I remembered nothing _except_ you." He sunk his face into his hands.

Korra parted her lips, about to speak, but thought it best to remain quiet.

"A kind spirit named Voroh found me, and told me the rules of the realm. For humans, our memories will completely fade away unless you drink the spirit water." He gestured to the glass Korra cradled in her hands. "It anchors your spirit to your body; in the Spirit World, they become two separate entities.

"Bending is also impossible here," Meng went on, his voice almost nonchalant. "Though, I cannot recall if I was ever a bender."

Widening her eyes, Korra held out a hand and tried to summon a spark of flame. Nothing. Swirling her fingers over her cup, she attempted to spiral the liquid into her hand.

"I can't bend," Korra whispered, shuddering as a memory wracked her body. She cried out, the injuries on her body crying out as she lived the pain again.

_He stabs her precisely where he must to paralyze her._

_With each pressure point struck, spasms vibrate through her as the dual sensation of horrifying pain and deafening numbness take over her mind._

_She succumbs._

_He has won._

Hissing a breath of air through her teeth Korra pushed herself from the table and leaped to her feet, ignoring her fatigue as she looks around. Anesthetizing anguish, inextinguishable fear. He was there. He was hurting her. He took her bending.

Who was _he_?

"Korra!" The voice breaks through, shattering her haze once again. She gazes down, seeing Meng's hardened expression.

"I…sorry," she mumbled, eyes still dashing around. She had never left the room, but the memory was _so_ vivid… Quietly, she folded her legs beneath her, sitting on the pillow again. "Everything feels so different here."

"It will get better with time," Meng promised. "Though, I must ask, why did you come to Damen Shi—through the gate—when you could just meditate?"

Korra blushed and hid part of her face under the blanket, embarrassed and ashamed that she wasn't able to do just that. "I'm not good at that," she answered curtly, hoping Meng would drop the subject.

"An Avatar who's _bad_ at mediating?" he asked, voice filled with disbelief and amusement.

"It's not like I haven't tried!" she snapped, glowering at the man across the table. Tucking his lips, he held up his hands in surrender.

"My apologies."

Meng's capitulation didn't satiate Korra's annoyance.

"I came here because I need help, not to be reprimanded for being a bad Avatar," she added resentfully, face growing hot with anger. "It isn't my fault."

"I never said it was," Meng agreed, chin tilting back as he raised his eyebrows.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to judge what he was thinking. Korra pursed her lips, realizing that her intuition must be all out of whack just like the rest of her mind.

Lifting herself as elegantly as she could, Korra turned on her heel. "I'm going to bed," she muttered under her breath, marching only a few feet away before she reached it. Crawling in bed, she glared at the wall, still unable to remove the frown from her face.

"As you wish." Meng's voice was void of emotion. She heard light footsteps as he walked around the room, extinguishing the flames quietly before climbing into the other bed himself. The groaning of the mattress springs suddenly reminded Korra of something Meng had said earlier—that you cannot sleep in the Spirit World.

Then why in the world did he have beds?

And worse—what was she going to do instead of sleep?

**.**

**.**

The idea of sleep was like a foreign concept in the Spirit World. Something that used to come so easily to Korra, save the nights when nightmares haunted her (though she couldn't quite recall what about her dreams caused them to become nightmares), now was out of her reach. Nothing quelled her agitation; how could spirits refuse to sleep? Korra _liked _sleeping.

Grumbling and turning over in bed, she pulled her blanket up just above her chin. She was starting to grow warmer, though the chills of this realm still forced her to curl into a ball. The floral scent in the air was also starting to dissipate—the smell of burning wax filling her nose instead.

There was one candle lit in the room, right next to Meng's bed. If she squinted, letting her eyes adjusting to the darkness, she could see the side of his face. Placid, neutral, his eyes were shut. Absentmindedly Korra wondered if he knew how handsome he was. She suppressed her girlishness, trying to forget that she had noticed. She didn't know him, although he knew her. The concept of a man she did not know obsessively looking for her should have disturbed Korra, but it did not. Maybe in her world, in another time, yes. She sympathized with Meng—the confusion, becoming overwhelmed with the new sights and smells of the Spirit World.

She was actually grateful, Korra thought pleasantly, a warm feeling rising in her throat as she continued to watch him. Before she could even mull over why, she broke the silence with a quiet mutter.

"I never thanked you properly for hel—saving me." Korra's face softened as she watched his candle-lit face turn toward hers.

"I couldn't very well let the Avatar lose her mind."

Sighing, the conversation seemed like a dead end. "I guess," Korra mumbled.

Meng gazed the ceiling, anticipating her to speak again.

"Can I ask you a question, Meng?" Korra rasped, clenching her fingers around her blanket.

He turned his head, raising his eyebrows expectantly as black hair tumbled down his face.

"If you—we—can't sleep, why do you have beds?"

Meng's eyebrows pulled together, almost in disbelief. "That's what you're curious about?"

Korra blushed, revealing a grimace as he teased her. "At this moment, yes, it is," she spat, sitting up in bed on her forearms. "Are you going to answer or not?"

Meng threw back his blankets and sat upright, crossing his legs on the mattress. "I, until you arrived, was the only human in Damen Shi. The spirits…some are kind, and some a cruel tricksters. A majority of them don't like humans.

"It comforts me, to pretend I can sleep. To close my eyes and pretend I am home in my own bed—even though I don't remember what home is," Meng explained, his words coated with regret and sadness.

"Oh," was all Korra could say.

He wiped his face clean of all vulnerability, becoming neutral once again. "It's actually time we started getting ready." Taking the candle from next to his bed, he carefully began to light all the other candles in his flat.

Korra swung her legs off the side of her bed, stretching her arms—flexing her fingers to awaken her tendons. "For what?"

He approached her, kneeling to light the candle on the nightstand next to Korra's bed. "To find a job," he said nonchalantly, gazing up at her with a small smirk. "You don't want to become spirit food, do you?"

**.**

**.**

"Since I did not anticipate your arrival, I don't have any clothes for you," Meng stated as he rustled through his linen closet, pulling out carefully folded pieces and tossing them to the floor. "I suppose you will have to borrow mine for the time being."

Standing behind him, Korra looked down at her Water Tribe outfit, eyebrows pulling together. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

He slowly turned around, dark eyes trailing down her body slowly before they met her eyes. "You look like a human."

Scoffing, Korra crossed her arms. "And what do _you_ look like?"

Meng kneeled to the floor, picking up a pile of folded black garments and shoving them towards her. "What I meant was no one in the Spirit World dresses like that," he clarified, rolling his eyes.

Pouting, Korra took the garments, unfolding them, seeing the black outfit was nearly identical to Meng's.

"I'll let you get dressed. Don't go outside without me," he told her firmly, eyes hardening as he went outside, a bright rivulet of sunlight momentarily shimmering through the opening.

Hearing the clicking of the door, Korra began to shed her Water Tribe clothes, keeping only her breast wrappings and underwear on. She slipped on the tunic, fastening it down the side of her abdomen as tight as the string would go. Surprisingly, even though the tunic was clearly tailored for a man, it fit Korra well. Where Meng's broad shoulders would have fit, the fabric stretched over her full breasts. The sleeves were slightly too long, but she adjusted them by rolling them up her forearms.

The pants were loose, but my judging the way the similar attire fit Meng, they weren't intended to be flush against her skin. She tied the drawstring tight, turning to examine her reflection. Korra pursed her lips, studying her own body. She looked so generic in the outfit—a bland blob of black. She removed her hair ties and let her hair fall down her back, almost looking like a completely different person.

Korra heard a subtle knocking on the door, causing her head to jerk. "Meng?" she called out hesitantly.

The door cracked open, yellow sunlight pouring through again. "May I come in?" The voice clearly belonged to Meng.

Giving her hair a quick ruffle, she turned from the mirror. She didn't want him to think her vain.

"Yeah," she called out, sitting on the edge of her bed to put on the canvas shoes Meng had given her. They were slightly too big for her feet, she discerned with a subtle scowl.

**.**

**.**

Meng continued through the door, closing it softly behind him as he inhaled deeply. He looked over his shoulder, stealing a glance at Korra. She didn't notice him pausing as he took in her image.

He marveled at how different, yet equally mesmerizing, Korra seemed with her hair cascading down her shoulders rather than tied back. Against the black robes she wore, her skin contrasted, reminding him of milk chocolate.

The slight movement of her chin alerted him she was about to look her way, snapping him from his trance.

"Do I look okay?" Korra asked, voice sounding oddly vulnerable.

Thinking before he spoke, Meng nodded. "You look acceptable."

She grimaced at his choice of words, which amused him. He had made a mistake of being so affectionate towards Korra in the beginning. Finally meeting another human in the Spirit World was overwhelming within itself—but meeting _her,_ it was too much.

Shaking the thought from his mind, Meng cleared his throat. "When we go outside, you mustn't be afraid," he instructed eloquently, approaching Korra. "Do not show fear, or you will offend the spirits. If your expression remains placid, they might not even think you out of place."

Face contorting slightly, Korra bit her lip. "Are they scary-looking? The spirits?"

"At first, yes," Meng replied. "I am going to take you to see the Spirit of Damen Shi—Jorn. He's very sensitive."

Listening carefully, she repeated the name. "Jorn."

"Yes," he praised, smiling slightly. "You must ask him permission to live in his realm. Plead, if you must. Tell him you will work any job he gives you—employment automatically grants you residency. Outsiders, especially humans, who live in the village against his wishes are turned into animals and fed to the other spirits."

"_What_?" Korra gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth. "I thought you were kidding when you asked me if I wanted to be spirit food!"

"Afraid not," Meng replied indifferently.

"Will dropping, 'hey, I'm the Avatar, can I live here?' work with this guy?"

Shrugging, Meng tilted his head. "I doubt it. You might be partially a spirit, but you're still human."

"What do the spirits have against humans?" Korra asked, crossing her arms and frowning.

He exhaled a long sigh. "Take this village, Damen Shi," he explained as he approached her. "There are millions of precious stones buried beneath, all of which the spirits claimed eons ago.

"Humans came and built a town, greed consuming them as they harvested the stones of the spirits. Of course they'd be angry. Man's greed has been their end before, and will be their until they learn to release the materialistic tendencies." Meng ran a hand through his hair, twisting his lips. "That's why Damen Shi was swallowed by the realm, because the spirits deemed them too greedy."

"And then a gateway opened?" Korra finished, tilting her head. She rose from the bed and straightened her tunic.

"Yes," Meng said sadly. "And then a gateway opened."

**.**

**.**


	3. Part III The Soul Collector

**A/N:** I am honestly very surprised by all the positive feedback... thank you for your kind words, they really do motivate me. I hope this chapter lives up to the previous two (I had a little bit of trouble articulating this 'new world' I created).

_GUYS, I'm anticipating that Amon will finally make his last appearance in the finale. SO this will stay completely AU, unless I say otherwise. Who knows what Bryke might give me to work with (maybe Amon will be a sexy as I hope!).  
_

* * *

_Greed is the inventor of injustice as well as the current enforcer. _

_**Julian Casablancas**_

**.**

**.**

**-/ Gateway Part III /-**

"Remember," Meng whispered cautiously, lips almost brushing against Korra's ear as their elbows locked together. He pulled her close, the gap between their waists closing as they walked down the small alleyway outside Meng's flat. The sun was bright, abnormally bright Korra supposed. Vivid gold rays reflected off the murky puddles that collected from the melted snow. Almost all the snow had melted, brown sleet gathered in the gutters of the buildings around them.

Korra could feel her heart wracking against her ribcage. Meng continuously warned her that showing fear in the presence of the spirits might warrant punishment. He had called them 'sensitive'—Korra was less worried about the spirits they would see wandering the streets and more concerned with the one called Jorn. Her survival in the Spirit World depended on whether he would grant her residency. Once she knew she wasn't going to be the main course at some spirit gala, Korra would then find a way to escape. This visit was about her immediate future.

Coming toward the end of the ally, Korra instinctively squeezed her arm around Meng's tighter, warranting a small grunt of pain from him.

"Sorry," she muttered, wincing as she laughed nervously. "Sometimes I forget how strong I am." She was glad that a few hours—or, what felt like a few hours—of rest had lessened the soreness in her body.

They rounded the corner of the ally and Korra gasped quietly, immediately softening her expression and suppressing her surprise. _This_ Damen Shi was _not _what she remembered.

The main street was paved with intricate cobblestone, lightly coated with brownish snow, as opposed to the dirt road she recalled before crossing over.

Damen Shi's buildings were much more immaculate—instead of old wooden paneling and concrete porches, all of the houses had tope vinyl and black-and-white granite sidewalks leading up to the doors. Korra wondered momentarily if she had just _forgot_ all these pristine upgrades, but doubt shook her as she became _sure_ that Damen Shi wasn't this nice on the _other side._

After taking in the rich architecture and design, her eyes darted to the figures walking up and down the streets. No, not walking, _drifting._ Floating. Dozens of robed creatures hovered down the block, some of their faces slightly concealed by their black cloaks. Some were dressed in normal clothes, tunics or dresses, but looked like human-animal hybrids. Covertly, Korra examined them further out of the corner of her eye, keeping her face a perfect emotionless slate.

There was a giant wolfbat, auburn face wrinkly, as it seemed to be frowning. It wore an outfit not unlike Meng's, grey and tied at the waist. Its wings protruded from the back as they fluttered ever so slightly, flying soundlessly down the street.

The other 'spirits' were equally fantastical and mesmerizing, but Korra never flinched once when their silvery eyes met hers with suspicion.

"How are you doing?" Meng asked in a monotone, not quite lowering his voice. Keeping her eyes straight ahead, Korra lifted her chin.

"This wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," she replied in a murmur. Meng chuckled lowly as he lessened his grip on Korra's arm.

"As I told you, when I first saw them I had _just_ arrived. Perhaps my senses were overwhelmed, and seeing them all…" he trailed off, the pitch rising in his voice. Korra arched a brow, turning her head to catch him frowning.

"Or maybe I'm just tougher than you?" she suggested nonchalantly as she suppressed a smirk

Meng chuckled doubtfully as if he were humoring her. "That must be it."

**.**

**.**

They approached what looked like a city hall, yet another ornate building Korra did not recall seeing on the _other side_. Spirits flooded out the doors, making her slightly nervous. What would happen if one of these spirits recognized her as an outsider? Would they morph into some unsightly monster and devour her?

Breaking her thoughts, Korra jumped slightly at Meng's voice. "The spirits gather here for meals—the meal of dawn should have just ended." They began to walk towards the hall, towering marble columns extending upwards on each side of the large wooden doors.

Meng released the arm he had snaked around her and leaned to open the door. Korra stood cautiously to the side, face still expressionless as more spirits poured out. Suddenly, yellow eyes met hers, flicking with a hunger that terrified her. Before she could stop herself, the stutter of her heart forced her to inhale. Yellow eyes narrowed, and Korra began to feel her mind drifting into a dark abyss.

"Don't mind her Lo," Meng called as if he had seen the short exchange. He wove around the yellow-eyed spirit, stepping in front of Korra and holding a hand behind his back to push her away. "Just another human."

Meng's tall stature blocked the yellow eyes from meeting Korra's again, but she could feel them searching for her. The image of them was stained in her mind, detesting her with each breath she took. Ankles giving out slightly, she caught Meng's shoulder for support.

"The human," _it_ said, each syllable firmly defined in a growling tone, "had better shield her bemusement from these eyes." The spirit began to float way, only its enormous black-hooded figure visible. "I haven't tasted a child's blood in years."

Korra resented being referred to as a child, but couldn't help feel as fearful as one. Under any other circumstance, she would have been fearless. The Spirit World intensified all her emotions, concentrating each thought into a syrupy wave of hesitation. The fear she felt was only comparable to an echo of terror that wracked through her occasionally—though Korra could never pinpoint the source of that terror. It somehow tied back to a pair of anger-writhed eyes, shaking her core as they glowered down on her.

Bluish silver eyes, Korra thought vaguely as Meng turned to face her. While his face was soft—was it with relief?—the flickering silver specs in his eyes always brought her back to the haze of perplexity that plagued this new realm.

"I wasn't exaggerating," he breathed, grabbing Korra by the bicep and pulling her inside quickly before her eyes encountered any other wandering spirits. They huddled behind a sizable glass vase filled with exotic and unfamiliar flowers, where Meng released her with an exasperated sigh.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. Korra brought a hand to her forehead, wiping the sweat from her brow as she realized she was getting cold sweats. A shiver rippled through her.

Meng shook his head, excusing the apology. "You did great," he assured her, tilting his head back as he stared toward the ceiling. "But when you see Jorn, you're going to have to do better."

Korra gulped. "Is he really that bad…?" she murmured, hugging her chest as she gazed up at Meng. She hadn't realized before that he towered about five inches above her, his chin parallel with her eyes.

Meng suddenly jerked his head, as if he heard someone coming, and shoved Korra into the corner between the wall and the giant vase. Pressing his body against hers, Korra had no choice but to inhale his heady scent. She was taken aback; the mixture of sweat with the floral smell that was _everywhere_ balanced her pallet of scents. She gazed at his watchful face that was turned slightly, listening, and inhaled again. It became remarkably clear to Korra that she had never been this close to a man. His chest was flush with hers, and she hoped that he didn't notice that her breathing had quickened-and not because of fear. Trying to suppress the bubbly teenage girl that was buried somewhere beneath her hazy memories and hardened persona, Korra bit her lip. Hard.

Just as the pain snapped her from her trance, Meng leaned backward and rolled against the wall next to her and slid to the floor, pulling Korra down with him. She brought her legs to her chest and exhaled shakily.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Korra," Meng said faintly. "Jorn will terrify you, even if you march into his quarters with a mask of hardened courage. Spirits tend to…morph reality to suite their needs. Jorn is no different, except his malevolence surpasses many other's."

"Malevolence?" Korra asked, her questions sounding more like a mousy squeak.

Meng looked forward and chewed his lip pensively. "I can't explain it exactly. He shows you things that upset you…I can barely remember it seems like so long ago." His face pales, and Korra purses her lips.

"How long have you been here?" Without thinking, she gripped Meng's wrist and smiled soothingly. Stiffening under her touch, he cleared his throat.

"I don't know. Time moves differently here, I suppose. It feels like years—but for all I know its an illusion. Just like everything else here. Which brings me back to Jorn.

"Whatever he shows you, just remember," Meng told Korra firmly, his expression hardening as he stood up, pulling her up with him. Seeming exasperated, he wraps his hands around Korra's throat. The gesture shocked Korra as she felt the echo of pain as ghostly fingers wrapped themselves around her trachea. After a few seconds, she relaxed as Meng's hands were only loosely hanging on her neck, his thumbs dragging gently across her collarbone. Staring up at him, her jaw hardens as she tried to read his face. Anger, fear, and regret—she wasn't certain. With a final stroke of his fingers up her neck and caressing her cheeks, he released her. Expression suddenly void of emotion, he looked down at her with hooded eyes. "It isn't real."

**.**

**.**

Meng gave Korra a few final instructions: to navigate the buildings halls, she was just supposed to intensely focus on the location she wanted to go. He warned her that any straying thought of fear or anguish might lead her straight to spirits who _thirst_ for those emotions. Korra didn't ask for further explanation about what _those_ spirits would do, but prepared herself to pour every ounce of attention she had into one chanting thought.

_Jorn._

She glided up a staircase, refusing to look back at Meng in fear that seeing his face again would distract here. _Focus_, she chanted, thinking of her intended location. Steadying herself on the guardrail, the patting of her footsteps echoing in the hall, she looked dead ahead.

Were there spirits passing by her? Yes. Was she going to be distracted? _NO._

The hall was lined with doors, candles lit between each on both sides. It was the only illumination, but it was still too dim to see properly. Several tapestries hung on the walls to, each illustrating a unique and horrific scene. A body being fed to a pit of monsters who nipped for blood and death. A man with a monsters head sprouting from his stomach. Korra grit her teeth as she considered the tapestries. Were they metaphorical pieces or did the Spirit World actually house such horrors?

The tunnel of doors seemed nearly endless, and Korra wondered how she would know she was in the right place. The monotony at repetitiveness was only assisted by the one name that filled her mind: _Jorn_.

She focused on the thought, recalling Meng's idling caution before she began up the staircase. _No._ She commanded herself to cleanse her mind, cutting all ties from her singular most important thought.

_Jorn._

The hall seemed to be shortening. The dimness was decreasing. Was this part of this illusion Meng was talking about?

_Jorn._

Before her eyes, the endless hall was suddenly replaced with a foreseeable door, just like the ones that lined the corridor. Steadying her breathing as she approached it, she bowed her head.

_What's on the other side?_

The thought electrified her, but Korra locked her jaw and relaxed her eyes. Don't react, just speak and listen.

She reached up to the door to push it open, and cringed as the hinges squeaked with the movement. A few steps through the frame, and she relaxes. The room seems like a normal office—not the cave of gloom-and-doom she had imagined. A sturdy metal desk sat in the middle of the room—the chair behind it empty—and each wall was lined with bookshelves. Except, instead of books being lined on the shelves, there were endless little glass jars, glowing with what looked like fireflies inside. Mesmerized, Korra approached one shelf and examined a jar. Upon a closer assessment, Korra realized that each jar glowed a different color, and the source wasn't any sort of insect.

Korra reached to pick up a jar—

"It's impolite to touch people's things without permission," a voice spoke, startling Korra and forcing her to turn around. She didn't see where the voice was coming from—and it sounded oddly like a child's—but realized that the desk chair was now turned away from her.

Cleansing her expression, Korra took a few steps toward the desk and kneeled. "Forgive me," she said quietly, almost in a whisper. She wasn't used to the formalities of bowing and asking for forgiveness over such petty things. Though she figured the extra effort wouldn't hurt.

"I forgive you." The desk chair turned around just as Korra lifted her chin, and it took all of her willpower to suppress the surprise, shock, and pain that swelled in her chest when her eyes met Jorn's.

He sat at the desk, a pleased expression encroaching on his boyish face. Brown eyes flickering with mischief, he stood from the desk, strange but familiar orange and red robes dancing as he moved.

And of course, the blue arrow extending from his forehead down the back of his neck was unmistakable.

_Aang._

There must have been emotion in her eyes, because Aa—_Jorn_ seemed to be devouring it with every moment that passed. She could feel her energy fading as her breaths hastened.

"Was I right?" he laughed severely, the sound filling her ears and rage flooding through her. Korra wasn't even sure what angered her—perhaps the Avatar within her was insulted by the perversion of her past life. "This is what you wanted?" he asked again, clutching his stomach as he laughed even harder.

Korra's upper lip twitched as she rose from her feet. "I want to speak with Jorn," she said evenly, voice cracking slightly as she continued to gaze upon the face of her past life.

"I am Jorn!" he announced, sitting back down in his chair and twirling in it playfully. "But you knew that."

"I don't want to speak to you when you look like Aang," she muttered incisively.

His expression curled and contorted, skin twisting and melting in the most impossibly horrifying ways. "You have no choice." When he spoke again, the child's voice was now coated with one more—what was the word Meng had used?—_malevolent_. It was deep and demonic, making Korra's blood run cold.

Korra's impatience outweighed her fear. "Please, I just need your permission to live here. I don't want to see Aang," she told Jorn hurriedly.

"But you _do _want to see Avatar Aang," the coated voice spoke again, and the brown eyes narrowed at her. "I am Jorn, the Spirit of Damen Shi—you knew that. What you don't know is that I am the embodiment of greed. The fate of this town has been determined by the greed of your kind; therefore I must inflict your own sin upon you.

"What you see, what I am, is what you want. I cannot control you, except by…" he trailed off, raising an eyebrow thoughtfully before leaning across his desk, "_exploiting_ your sin."

Korra's lips parted, and a breath of air escaped her. She had come to Damen Shi to find one of her past lives, to find Aang. Jorn was right—she _did_ want to see Aang.

"Why is it greed to want something?" It barely came out as a whisper. She hardened her voice. "To seek one's guidance?" she questioned him, jaw tightening.

"You can answer that question yourself, Avatar. Just look at the consequences of your _want,_" Jorn emphasized, gesturing a small hand in the air. As he moved his slender fingers, a cloud of smoke appeared and Korra could see a moving image.

Through the mist, she saw herself, kneeling on the ground. Fear danced in her blue eyes as snow fluttered through the air. A hand stabbed against her shoulder blade and she tumbled forward into the attackers arms. Why was this so familiar? Although she was watching the event from a third-person point of view, she could still remember that stabbing pain when the pointedly aimed fingers collided with her tender skin. She didn't see the attacker, but just a few seconds and the angle—

Just as her attacker threw her over his shoulder, the perfect angle for viewing his, face Jorn clenched his fist and the mist disappeared—along with any hope of sparking some of her lost memories.

He gazed upon her expectantly, and Korra averted her eyes. Perhaps wanting coming to Damen Shi was greedy—she had endangered herself in the process. And now, she was trapped in the Spirit World, her hopes wrapped in the hands of a spirit impersonating her past life's child-self.

"You are right," she admitted painfully, swallowing hard. "I accept coming here was a mistake. If you grant me residency—I'd be willing to work for it—I will try to find a way out of here as soon as possible."

"Hmm," Jorn hummed, examining her closely. "And I suppose you promise never to return?"

Korra scoffed at the fact he had to ask. "I may be the Avatar, but I don't belong here. This realm belongs to you and the other spirits."

Pleasure glimmered across his face and he stood. "I suppose I could give you a job," he muttered indifferently, straightening his airbending robes. "For a price."

Korra didn't speak, but eyed him watchfully. Suspiciously.

"Well, you see," he said, hands behind his back as he walked toward his bookshelf. He lifted a hand to brush a finger across one of the glowing jars. "I have this collection…"

The tone in his voice, though still hinted with that of her past life, still terrified her.

"Of souls."

Korra's face fell; hope withering as she gazed around the office area again.

Hundreds of jars, lined up perfectly and glowing with a bright intensity that a flame would never gather. Except, maybe the flame of a soul.

"These are souls?" Korra whispered, closing her eyes.

"Yes. And I would very much like to add an Avatar to my collection." He twisted his head at an impossible angle, morbid entertainment vivid in his expression as he watched Korra's face fill with grief. All these souls…

And he wanted hers.

"But I am a fair spirit, or at least I like to think so." He crouched to the ground and picked up a jar that seemed to be empty. Taking it back to his desk and sitting down, Jorn smiled and weaved his fingers into a single fist. "I will grant you a job, but only if you surrender your soul as…hmm, what do you humans call it? _Collateral_?" He chuckled darkly.

Thinking for a moment, Korra's eyes narrowed. "Under what circumstance do you get to…keep my soul?"

"If in the progress of doing the job I give you, you make the slightest contact with Avatar Aang, I shall keep your soul," Jorn specified, a smile creeping on his lips. "Forever."

Korra grit her teeth, gazing around the room once again. She could almost hear the glowing jars whispering to her—begging her for help. She felt powerless. Weak. Her fingers tingled as she called for the flames that didn't come. Her feet planted to the ground, but she didn't feel the subtle vibrations of the earth like she used to,

She was at the mercy of this world, and Jorn.

Taking a step toward the desk, Korra tilted her head forward. The flames of self-loathing flicked her throat. In a moment of pure clarity, she saw there was no other option.

"I agree to the terms," was all she said. Her lip twitched when a scroll of parchment and a feathered calligraphy pen were suddenly floating before her eyes.

As she signed the dotted line, she tried to block the sound of Aang's voice laughing. The satisfied cackling would have earned anyone a mouth full of broken teeth in her world, Korra thought as she looked at her signature. The black ink faded, her name disappearing, as did all the other words on the contract.

Gasping, her lips were forced open and a dancing blue light was twinkling before her, making her eyes widen. Was that her soul? The realization made her heart clench as she reached up to touch it.

Jorn tutted with crimson disapproval as he quickly brought the empty jar to the glowing blue light and shoved it down inside. She could feel the emptiness within her, as if the light was the fuel of her hope and courage. Jorn lidded the jar, and placed it carefully on his desk and eyed it in a state of morbid wonder.

Pressing her lips together as her eyes narrowed, Korra eyed the Spirit of Damen Shi. "What do you want me to do?"

At that question, Jorn's lips curled into a smile that made Korra forget that she ever had an ounce of bravery within her.

**.**

**.**

Numbness filled her limbs as she lumbered from Jorn's office and met with the same never-ending hall once again. Like a weight pulling down on her, she didn't even consider whether she had to think about her destination or not to find her way out of there. It didn't matter though, because only thing consumed her. Meng, he would comfort her in that strange way he always did. The slight brush of his finders on a sensitive piece of her skin and maybe she could actually feel again.

Empty, alone - she had literally surrendered her soul to evil.

She felt the wetness on her cheeks before she realized quiet sobbed wracked through her stomach. Korra did not allow herself to bawl like a child, even though she might as well have been one. She suddenly yearned for her mother's embrace, one that held Korra whenever she had nightmares. Perhaps wanting her mother stemmed from the intensity of this world - how it felt like a dream and a nightmare all at once. One moment, she was in the arms of a mysterious and handsome man and the next she was confronted with a nightmarish spirit who imitated her idol.

Meng was her only friend in this world - that's what she wanted. She pointedly concentrated on him and hoped the hall would transform into the staircase she had come up.

Eventually, the hall _did _come to an end, but she was met with another door. Parting her lips, fill escaped her mouth as she began to cry audibly. She would never get out; this world only gave her another door to pass through. This spirit was probably one of despair, just as Meng warned, at was going to devour her.

She pressed her palms against the door, sniffling as she pushed it open.

"Korra!"

Surprise overcame her as she furiously wiped the tears from her eyes. The next moment, she was suddenly wrapped in a pair of familiar arms. Looking over his shoulder, she realized she had come through a door that was no longer there. They were behind the large flower vase once again.

"How..." she mumbled, awkwardly letting her arms hand hang as Meng clung to her shoulders. He pulled away and released her completely, his face flashing with slight anger. At her? Himself?

"You must have been focusing on the vase when you were coming back," he answered evenly, expression becoming slightly cross.

Eyebrows pulling together, she wondered why his words were filled with a hint of disappointment. "Yeah, that's it."

Brushing the subject of her return off, Meng titled his head. "So what happened? I'm guessing Jorn gave you residency if you're still standing here."

A breath hitched in Korra's throat as she began to describe the events. "He...imitated Avatar Aang," she confessed sullenly. Meng didn't see very surprised, but still nodded for her continue. "He told me it was what I wanted the most, and that he had no choice but to...exploit that."

"An illusion," he commented softly. "I don't quite remember my encounter with him. Things here are easily forgotten." Meng shrugged. "And I guess it is in Jorn's best interest, if he wishes to incite fear, that rumors of his powers go unheard."

"I was very surprised," Korra continued shakily. "And scared. He took the form of Aang as a child, and... He turned my own hope against me."

She couldn't help but let a quiet sob ripple through her.

"Shh," Meng whispered, gentle-like in tone compared to his indifference from earlier. "It wasn't real, just like I told you."

"-And he had all these jars, lined up around his office. Hundreds. He said they were filled with souls." Korra crossed her arms. "He gave me a job, on the condition that I...my..." Bringing a hand to her chest, aching for the warmth that was once there, Korra closed her eyes.

"He took your soul," Meng finished darkly.

She nodded wordlessly as silent tears strolled down her brown cheeks.

For a moment, they were silent. Korra found herself taking a seat on the marble flooring of the hall, shielding herself behind the flower vase. Meng was sitting next to her, staring off to the distance.

"He has my soul too," he suddenly added quietly.

This made Korra's head jerk, as she eagerly looked upon him. He seemed so constructed and calm - unlike her.

"Do you feel cold?" she asked him in a whisper. She ran her hands down her arms, trying to soften the goose bumps that rose as she spoke.

He tilted his head towards her and nodded. "Not as much as I used to," he murmured.

Hesitantly, Korra held out a hand and forced a smile. Somehow, the prospect of human touch warmed her stomach, and she yearned for it. She didn't know Meng very well, but words he once said to her burned her thoughts.

_Time moves differently here, I suppose._

The thoughts that followed were unexplainably wordless and warm. As Meng's hand met hers, their fingers intertwining and seeming inseparable, Korra considered the meaning of time. Here, was it relative to the person you spent it with?

Although she was sure they had just met, Korra felt awfully confident that they had known each other much longer than what seemed possible.

Catching Meng's attention with her eyes, she bit her lip. "Meng?"

He watched her carefully, his slender fingers giving hers a comforting squeeze. "Yes?"

Korra had trouble articulating her thoughts, the mist of uncertainty spreading over her.

"Do you think we knew each other...before?" Her question was vague, but Meng seemed to understand and considered an answer pensively.

"I hope so."

**.**

**.**


	4. Part IV Almost

**_A/N:_ **As I anticipated, cannon Amorra is no morra (haha, I make bad jokes when I'm upset).

I liked some of of the elements of Amon's past, so I'm going to snatch some of them to keep it slightly cannon.

So **NOTE THIS READERS**: A few details have changed-

-Amon seems to have silver eyes

-Meng has light blue eyes

-Disregard any mentioning of Meng being pale.

Other than that, no changes have been made so far in the story.

* * *

_Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage._

_**Lao Tzu**_

**.**

**.**

**-/ Gateway Part IV /-**

Meng held the door open for Korra as, much to her surprise, the moonlight drizzled her skin. When they arrived at the city hall—as she decided to refer to the immaculate building as—the sun was high in the sky and expelling an almost blinding light. She whipped around to Meng with a confused expression.

"How long were we here?" she asked hurriedly, shaking her head. "I mean, I wasn't with Jorn that long, was I?"

The door swung back as Meng released it, and he merged instep with her as they glided down the marble stairs. He shrugged slightly. "It didn't feel like long, but I suppose it could have been several hours."

Korra scoffed. Several, although implying quite a few, seemed like an understatement. Perhaps her senses of time, based upon the position of the sun in the sky or the intensity of the moonlight that shone up on her face, were useless in the Spirit World. Shoulders slumming as they walked down the street, a wave of fatigue washed over her. Luckily, there weren't many spirits walking about now—only a few street vendors had their lights on, still serving the roaming figures. Korra had no energy to placidly create a façade for them.

Meng shifted his head slightly, looking down at her. Korra noticed the movement out of the corner and her eye and looked up towards him. Immediately he looked away, eyes pointing forward as his eyebrows pulled together. Korra felt a sting of anger, although she wasn't positive of its cause. Was it his fluctuating attitude toward her? The thought made her chest clench with that similar angry emotion. One moment he took her, held her, and calmed her. The next he was a far cry from that gentleness that was so comforting and refreshing.

She opened her mouth for a moment, about to ask him why he was suddenly so distant again but was interrupted by his own sudden question.

"You never told me what job Jorn gave you," he mentioned quietly. The quietness in his voice suggested he was uncomfortable—perhaps because of the silence. Korra scoffed; that discomfort was his own doing.

"Well," Korra murmured, passively coating her voice with annoyance. "I was assigned to work at a tea shop. I guess I'll have to grow accustomed to serving the spirits with a straight face."

Meng suddenly came to a stop in the middle of the stone-paved road, causing Korra to turn around. His lips were pressed tight, anger flickering in his dark yellow eyes. "The Glass Dragon?"

Korra propped a hand on her hip. "Yeah?"

Meng exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. "And you lose your soul if you talk to Avatar Aang?"

Perplexed by his train of thought, Korra gawked. "That's what I told you, isn't it?" His eyes opened and they turned toward the ground. She took a step toward him and pressed her lips together. "What aren't you telling me?"

Considering her question, Meng began walking again, his footsteps more hurried than before. Korra stumbled forward, trying to keep up with him, as he seemed to be marching with purpose. "Meng." Her voice was stern.

"Why did I think that Jorn wouldn't be a…a…" anger hitched in Meng's voice as he stammered to find the appropriate insult. "…Manipulative, calculating, _bastard._" The words hissed from his lips quietly, as if he didn't want others to overhear.

"I thought you made it clear that Jorn was _all_ those things," Korra murmured in response. The filtered moonlight danced on Meng's face, his normally pale eyes taking a silvery tone. His pupils dilated suddenly, becoming blackened. His rigid jaw was even more pronounced as he grit his teeth. "Talk to me Meng."

The sound of his name made him turn his head. "Let's wait until we're inside and I'll tell you," he replied in a softer tone.

Korra nodded, accepting the stipulation, as they seemed to be approaching a familiar side of town. Following Meng's lead, they turned down the alleyway, which was only lit by the small amount of moonlight that wasn't blocked by the medium-height buildings and some candle lanterns that hung outside Meng's door. He took a step in front of her, waving his hand over the doorknob—a clicking sound coming from within the mechanism—and then motioned a hand through the doorframe. Korra walked through, turning to see Meng taking one of the candles from within the lantern—presumably to use it to light the candles within his flat.

Taking in the room once again, with her eyes much less hazy than before, Korra noticed that everything in the room complimented each other. The flickering orange flames from the candles brightened the already-golden walls and the light-brown wooden paneling on the floors seemed to be a similar shade of gold as well. Against Meng's black attire also seemed complimented by golden pallet of the room, the contrast reminding her of a sunset over a step unbidden mountain.

Korra took a seat on the velvet pillow she had sat at before, expression hard as she waited for Meng to take a seat across from her. He did, bringing a pot of tea with him and two porcelain cups. Silently, she watched him poor the steaming liquid into the two cups. Korra hesitated as she reached out to take it.

"How did you heat it up so fast?"

Meng seemed amused, but didn't smile. "I have a few powers."

Korra gaped slightly, sipping the warm tea. It stung her tongue, but the liquid pleasurably slid down her throat, all of her fatigue fading away. "Like firebending?" _I thought he said we couldn't bend here?_

He shook his head, almost as if he were insulted. "No, no. I just can… control things. I can't explain it."

Korra narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You can't explain a lot of things." Her voice sounded more accusing than she had intended, but didn't flinch away when his slightly irritated eyes met hers.

"You think I'm hiding the truth from you? When I've done nothing but help and keep you from being killed?" Meng demanded reproachfully, tilting his chin to the side.

"I don't know, I barely know you. Who's to say you aren't in cahoots with Jorn or some other _malevolent _spirit," Korra hissed. Somewhere, a voice of logic reprimanded her and told her that this would only escalate, but she didn't want to back down.

"You might be the Avatar, but you are still a girl," he said quickly and firmly. Korra responded by leaning forward, demonstrating that she was not a just a girl. He ignored the gesture and stammered on. "You are not familiar with the complexities of this realm, and I do not wish to burden you with them. I have been patient, but your attitude troubles me a times. I am your host, and I deserve more than being chastised by an irritated child."

"Irritat_ed_, or irritat_ing_?" Korra snapped, shoving her cup against the table as she glared at him.

Meng arched a brow. "Perhaps both."

"You think me a child, but you forget that in my culture I have surpassed womanhood. Then again, you probably don't remember your schooling, let alone the teachings of Watertribe culture—which is odd since all you _can_ remember is a certain Watertribe girl."

His eyebrows pulled together, lips tightening. "I know your culture," he said roughly. "And I told you, I don't know why I remember you. Perhaps its improper, and you can suspect all you want. I…" his will seemed to have collapsed has his words trailed off, almost seeming apologetic. "I do not intend to hurt you. Ever."

At his last, forceful declaration, Korra's humility surfaced and her anger dissolved. Despite herself, she looked down at the table and sighed. "I believe you." _Even though I don't know why,_ she mentally added.

Meng leaned forward, uncomfortable in his current position. He brought a hand to his cheek, brushing it against his smooth skin, almost habitually. Thoughtfully. "I'm sorry I called you merely a girl," he added softly. "Compared to me, you are."

This made Korra's lips purse as she discreetly let her eyes trail over Meng. He didn't seem that old, although his chiseled features did make him look quite more mature than the men who were her age. He was definitely not as old as her father.

"How old are you?" she asked tentatively. He seemed uncomfortable with the question.

"I don't know."

Korra nodded as she chewed her lip. "Well, you don't seem very old to me. But I do forgive you for calling me a child. Sometimes my hotheadedness betrays my age." She tried smiling, but it was ineffective and Meng only bowed his head.

"If hotheadedness is a sign of immaturity, I would wager that you might be older than I am," he confessed, smiling slightly at his own attempt at dry humor.

Korra giggled girlishly, reaching across the table to retrieve the teapot to fill her cup. Just as she grasped the wicker grip, she felt Meng's warm fingers overtop hers. She truly tried not to blush as he cleared his throat and said, "allow me" in the eloquent way he did, but the crimson flooded her neck and traveled to her cheeks. She covered it up by faking a sneeze and bringing her hands to her face.

"Spirits bless you," he murmured, the amused grin on his lips making her blush even more. She never acted this way—well, almost never. There was a memory, on the tip of her tongue, they would say, of a boy from her world. He was but a vague shadow in her mind, his name unfathomable. She remembered how he both frustrated her and made her feel warm.

Admittedly she felt that feeling around Meng, except it seemed amplified. Korra was unsure if those feelings arose since he was her only companion or for other reasons. She brushed those thoughts away, reminded that any feelings she had were irrelevant since Meng had made it clear he thought she was a child - apologetic or not.

"So…" Korra said, her voice cracking. She took a drink to loosen her throat. "What is it you wanted to tell me about my job?" The seriousness of the conversation they were about to have was clear on Meng's face as his neutrality shifted to frustration.

"Yes," he muttered. Meng straightened up and wove his fingers together in his lap. "The Glass Dragon is a popular establishment for spirits to visit. A convergence point, if you will. Jorn told you would be serving tea to these spirits, correct?" Korra nodded. "Then you shall be in direct contact with any spirit who walks through those doors."

Korra gazed at him, filled with confusion.

"I guess there's something you must understand about the Spirit World. The gateway, you—and many others, actually—refer to it as becomes the 'center' of the spirit world. It changes occasionally; there have been other gateways in the past—" Korra's memory sparked, as if someone had told her just that. "—Some of them usually form due to human sin, just as greed consumed this town due to the prospects of mining beneath the village.

"Geography here is strange and complex. While the gateway, the center of the Spirit World, remains unmoving, the other locations revolve around the gate. For instance, you might want to reach the Spirit Oasis in the North Pole from here, but without another knowledgeable spirit as a guide it would be impossible. You could travel north forever and never even see the tundra or snow."

Korra grasped the concept, nodding in understanding. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Just as The Glass Dragon is a convergence point for the spirits of Damen Shi, Damen Shi is a convergence point for the entire Spirit World since it is in the center and never moves," Meng explained, raking his hand through his loose dark hair.

"And the Avatar spirits move too…" Korra mumbled softly, hoping that she was hearing Meng wrong.

He deadpanned. "Yes, they do. Which is why I am so…" he stammered for words, something Korra often noticed he did when he was angry. "_Livid._

"Jorn, that greedy bastard, arranged for you to possess the one job that would ultimately lead you to encountering Avatar Aang," Meng growled, slamming his fist into the table, making Korra jump. "I can't believe I sent you to him, thinking he might be fair to you because you were the Avatar. Ambassador to this world."

Korra's eyes narrowed. "_Fair._ He called himself fair, when I went to see him." She straightened herself, trying to present herself as calm as Meng's anger seemed to be increasing exponentially. "So, if I took the job I probably lose my soul forever...and if I didn't I would have become spirit food."

Meng rubbed his knuckles against his forehead as he exhaled breathily. "None of this is fair—this world isn't fair. If I hid you, kept you a secret, you would at least have your soul. Perhaps you would have a chance of escaping with it."

"Meng." Korra's voice was steady, steady waves of tranquility washing over her. She thought the feeling strange, foreign, in comparison to her brash personality. Something told her—almost in a whisper—that rash anger would not solve her problems. For once, her mind was clear and remained clear—even though she couldn't remember everything. Logic fueled her, and she became filled with a strength she never knew she possessed. "You have done nothing but help me, and I don't blame you for anything. You might have faced horrible consequences for sheltering me without Jorn's permission."

Meng's shoulders relaxed as he considered that. "I suppose, but I'm replaceable. You, on the other hand, are the Avatar."

"My title doesn't make me _irreplaceable_. If I die in this world, I suspect I would just be reincarnated again," Korra muttered, averting her eyes. "And maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing since I can't airbend." _Since I'm broken._

Meng shook his head, his expression hardening at his words. "Don't say that," he said in a commanding tone. " And...I am not certain, but I think you're wrong."

"About my incapability to airbend?" Korra murmured, rolling her eyes. "You obviously haven't seen me try.

"No," he interjected firmly. "I think if you die here… you will not be reincarnated."

Korra's lips parted, her moment of clarity suddenly evaporating and replaced with the uncertainty and helplessness that clouded her mind before.

She thought back to her encounter with Jorn, the spirit who taunted her own greed before her. When she had asked how wanting something was greedy, his reply echoed in her mind.

_"You can answer that question yourself, Avatar. Just look at the consequences of your _want."

Korra shuddered at the memory and clutched her stomach, anger writhing through her. Self-loathing, regret, indescribable pain as she realized what she had done.

The product of her desires, perhaps guided with selfless intent, had left - not only her life - but also the destiny of her world in the hands of fate.

A stifled breath escaping her lips, Korra realized she was crying. The fate of the world—the instinctual call of this statement had more of an affect on her than ever before. In her upbringing, she was warned that her reign, so to speak, as Avatar might be plagued with challenges that might be difficult to face. She was sure, even though she could recall it; there was a mission that fueled her desperation to learn airbending. To become a fully realized Avatar.

What challenge did she face on the other side?

Frustration filled her as she achingly stretched the tendrils of her mind for the memory, only capturing vague impressions. A power that terrified her. A mysterious figure who haunted her nightmares. A pair of silver eyes that stared upon her like a hunter to prey.

_"I'm saving you for last."_

The morphed whisper of those words in her mind sent waves of fear through her. And then, the realization that she had failed the world.

"If I die here," Korra said carefully, trying not to let the tightness in her throat reveal her anguish. "The cycle will be broken?"

Meng looked away, nodding slightly.

Korra rubbed her brow with the tips of her fingers. "So I will not die. I will get my soul back, and I'll leave this place," Korra announced weakly. "And I'll take you with me."

**.**

**.**

Meng jerked his head up when Korra said that. Although her voice was weak, she wasn't lying. Warmth flooded his stomach as he contemplated that—he hadn't even thought of asking her to help _him._

"I never asked you to do that," was all he said in a quiet voice.

Korra sniffled, swallowing her fear as she tried to sound hopeful. "I may not have my bending, but it's my duty to help people." Those somber words sounded familiar on her tongue. "Unless you want to stay here," she mumbled.

"I am…humbled by your vow," Meng paused, carefully choosing his words. "If a moment arises where I may accompany you back to the other side, I will take it gladly." His face softened. "However, if you find a way to crossover by yourself—without me—I refuse to let you stay. The world needs you, but I cannot see any reason why it would need me enough for you to surrender your life."

Korra listened to Meng's words, noting his passion with a heavy feeling in his chest. She found him selfless, kindhearted, and filled with a sense of duty just as she was. They were remarkably similar in those respects. When it became clear he spoke of _self-sacrifice_, Korra tensed. _She _should be the one sacrificing herself for the world, but it seemed her noble intentions had done the opposite. Instead, Meng was willing to surrender any hope of returning to both of their homes, for her sake. She was the Avatar. Why wasn't she carrying his burden?

"I can't promise you that," she said in a whisper, entranced by him as his eyes gleamed in the candlelight.

"_Korra,_" he sighed impatiently. "You cannot possibly blame yourself for coming her and blame yourself for leaving at the same time."

"_Apparently_ I can," Korra jeered, crossing her arms.

He groaned in frustration. "You can't change the past. But you can decide your future. Promise me that you'll leave, with or without me."

"_No_."

Seeing that she would not sway, Meng sunk his face into his hands, dragging his nails down his cheeks. "You are stubborn," he mumbled against his palm, almost inaudible to Korra's ears.

"You think you're being selfless by asking me to do that," Korra explained in a softer tone. "In a way, you are. You're intentions are selfless. But you're being selfish by not considering how promising that would affect me. If I left you here, in this horrible place with Jorn holding your soul captive forever, I would never forgive myself.

"Especially after all you've done…" she continued, growing more emotional and loud as she went on. "You _saved_ me. I'm in your debt."

Meng gazed through the space between his fingers as he watched the young, beautiful woman speak to him with such…compassion. Her blue eyes shined, brimming with tears that still rolled down her cheeks when she blinked. He wanted to reach out and brush them away with his thumb, to cup her face like he had when they reunited.

When Meng first set eyes on her, he knew she was the one he had been searching for so long ago. A diamond of beauty and strength—indescribably beautiful in his broken and scattered memories. She was rough around the edges, and he had once longed to meet her so _he_ could carve her to perfection.

Though, everything changed when they finally met. The fierce angel from his daydreams was tangible, real. Even in her state of confusion, she was more beautiful than he remembered. Skin dark like chocolate; he wondered if it tasted as sweet. Hair soft as silk; when it hung down her shoulders and framed her beautiful round face, he wanted to run his hands roughly through it.

Meng did not recall anything beside her unequivocal beauty and the fact she was the Avatar. He learned other things, such as her intense hotheadedness (so similar to his own) and her capacity to care, through her actions. When her strong, yet comforting voice spoke he picked up subtle things. He was observant. She was afraid of showing weakness; although she softened quite easily under his touch. When he seemed indifferent toward her, she showed frustration. To Meng, this indicated that she was used to attention—no doubt due to her upbringing as the Avatar.

_If I left you here, in this horrible place with Jorn holding your soul captive forever, I would never forgive myself._

Those words revealed something he already knew was there—compassion—but to a new extent. Her voice was velvet and weak, as if separation would destroy her. Meng's heart stuttered at this thought as he lifted his head. She was so young, yet so old. She may claim to have had no contact with her past lives but Meng was confident that they had brushed their wise fingers against her mind.

Meng's thoughts drifted into unsafe territory as he watched her full lips curl, trying not to collapse in to a frown. He wanted to touch her lips, to feel if they were a soft and plump as he had imagined before they met.

Part of him screamed at the inappropriateness of it all; that voice was always there when his mind ventured into Meng's primal realm. It forced him to doubt whether he was being imprudent by…_liking_…this girl. Flashes of her face, contorted in pain, would sometimes flash into his mind. He couldn't tell if they were parts of his memory or the reflections of his own fears. He hoped for the latter.

The feelings that flooded through him were impossible to separate: fear, disgust, desire—it made no difference, though. He couldn't deny that she was the kindest, most beautiful being he had ever met. Perhaps it was impartial to say so, since he couldn't quite recall any other women. Nonetheless, he was sure that no woman could rival her exotic figure and features…

"Meng, are you okay?"

The sound of her voice rattled Meng as she shuffled uneasily. "Yes," he breathed, clearing his throat as he tried to wane away from his thoughts. "I understand."

He couldn't help but feel as though he was leaning across the table, voluntarily or not. Korra seemed to notice, and her shining eyes widened. Meng was on his knees now, steadying himself as he propped his hands on the table, leaning closer and closer.

**.**

**.**

Korra could feel her heart racing in her chest—was he about to kiss her? Something flamed from her stomach up through her chest, and she licked her dry lips. His eyes studied her, not with critique but with childish wonder. Mesmerized. No one had ever looked at her like that.

She recalled him being so distant, and then close once more. The way his thumbs had innocently yet seductively brushed against her collarbone at city hall. How the feeling of their bodies being flush against each other made her blood cold and on fire. She was so confused…if he kissed her, would he cease to speak to her? Would he push her away again?

Once again, her senses were flooded as his mouth was close enough to her face that his breath was washing over her again. She inhaled, the saltiness reminding her of the ocean.

For a moment, she was sure they knew each other. The sparkle in his eyes told her that. Maybe it wasn't in this life, but another. She heard about soul mates, but she didn't think the Avatar was complicit in such trivial things. Many of the Avatars before her _never_ found love, and the ones who did found it with difficulty. Sometimes it was their lover's end, being with the Avatar. It would be cruel for the spirits to curse another to only love the Avatar spirit forever…

Korra gasped, leaning back and snapping herself from her trance. Meng watched her, confused as he still hovered over the table.

What was she thinking about love for? She couldn't _possibly_ love someone she'd known for less than a day. She frantically looked around, her raging heart still not calm. "I—I'm sorry," she stammered, looking away. Something crumbled inside her, and Korra wasn't sure if it was because of her doubt or the pain that struck across Meng's features for a split second.

**.**

**.**

Meng leaned back, neutralizing his expression as he usually did. He hadn't expected rejection—not when he finally let his guard down. Now the wall between his logic and his passion seemed higher than ever. "Don't be," he said evenly. Without another word, he rose from his cushion and marched to his bed. With the flick of his hand, all the candles were extinguished and the creaking of the mattress as he fell on it filled the silence in the room.

**.**

**.**

Frozen, Korra stared into the darkness. She brought a hand to her chest, nails digging through the fabric of her tunic as she wished she could tear her heart out. The pain within it seemed to infect the rest of her. She didn't even have the strength to wonder how he had extinguished all the candles with the slight motion of his wrist.

Letting her eyes flutter shut, she held her other hand over her mouth to suppress the cries of anguish from leaking out of her lips.

**.**

**.**


	5. Part V Trust

**_A/N:_ **I am warning you all up front there is **slightly** (sexually) explicit content ahead. Read at your own discretion.

And honestly I'm embarrassed by it but I felt like it had to be done and I couldn't stop it. asdfjkl. SOLDIER ON.

* * *

_He who does not trust enough, Will not be trusted.  
**Lao Tzu**  
_

**.**

**.**

**-/ Gateway Part V /-**

The temperature of the flat rose exponentially, no doubt due to Meng's silent seething.

Sweat poured down his body and his forehead throbbed with pain as he tried to calm down. He truly hadn't meant to be so flippant towards Korra, but his own qualms and fears about rejection seemed to fill every pore of his being. Meng shifted uncomfortably in his bed, kicking down his comforter with a thrust of his legs.

Calm, be calm.

He had mentioned before he had powers of sorts - powers that he did not feel comfortable explaining. In his irritation, he used his powers to an extent he promised himself not to. With the flick of his wrist, he had suffocated all the flames that lit the room. When he did so, as Meng feared, the floodgates opened.

Visions of charred flesh and echos of screams danced in his mind, making him clench his hands into tight fists. He didn't want to hear them. Why couldn't he just forget those memories like everything else? His fingernails dug into his palms.

Crimson and amarillo, velvet and steam pierced him. His powers grew. He was exuding the flames of his brokenness. Discomfort was unavoidable.

Meng opened his eyes to the darkness, turning on his side. As his pupils adjusted to the lack of light, he could see the outline of a woman still sitting at the dining table.

He opened his mouth, ready for a thousand apologies to pour out, but thought it best to be quiet. The apologies would seem translucent and meaningless now, even though he truly felt sorry for reacting the way he did.

And if his temper flamed anymore, Meng was sure his apartment would catch fire.

**.**

**.**

Korra fanned her face, swatting her hand through the dense and humid air. What was going on with the temperature? Coming back from city hall it was still cool and the snow had barely melted. Meng's flat felt like a sauna.

She heard him shift slightly on the creaking mattress, and she turned her head slowly. She couldn't see him, but she could feel him. Like a shadow, she could sense him watching her. Korra knew he was angry for not kissing him...

...she was angry at her too.

She related the feeling to reading a book. What had started out as confusing - pages filled with words she didn't understand - became something mysterious and she wanted more. She had started to skim for the good parts, not relishing the dark mysteries that lay bellow the thickening, irresistible plot. She wasn't scared of the kiss.

Korra was scared that, for a moment, their lips melting together was the only thing that mattered and nothing else.

Suppressing a groan of frustration, Korra wiped the remainder of her silent tears from her cheek with the sleeve of her tunic. It was getting too hot for the thick fabric - she could feel the sweat pooling under her arms and dampening her breast wrappings. Whipping her head around, Korra wondered if he had some _power_ that gave him night vision.

It was _too hot_. Her skin throbbed for air.

Tentatively she faced away from Meng's bed and began to undo the front of her tunic. The tie fell to her side, and it opened, and a sigh of momentary relief filled her as the skin above her sternum and on her stomach finally had room to breathe. But it still wasn't enough. She cursed the temperature of the room and the rising temperature of her body as she began to unwrap her bosom, still keeping her tunic hanging around her shoulders.

Once the wrapping fell away, embarrassment flooded her as she realized she was more exposed than _ever_ in the same room as a man. Of course, the circumstances were much different and she had no intention letting Meng see her chest. She still faced away from him, but paranoia forbade her from removing her hands from the edges of her tunic - poised to conceal herself if he stirred.

Korra continued to fan herself, but was startled by the heavy knocking on the door. She fell to her side from the surprise, frantically searching the tie in the darkness. She cursed under her breath, knowing that at any moment the room would illuminate and she didn't have time to wrap her breasts again.

She tied a thick knot around her small waist just as a candle flicked on and the room glowed orange against the golden walls. Another heavy knock fell on the door, and Meng lumbered to it, refusing to look at Korra.

"Who is it?" he called, irritation obviously in his voice. Korra frowned, wondering if that irritation was meant for her.

Korra, straining to hear, only caught the muffled sound of a female voice. Meng's shoulders slumped, relaxed, as he opened the door.

Korra moved past the shock of the sun shining through the door as a figure moved through the frame, focusing her vision. Meng politely motioned a hand to the table. "Take a seat."

Korra's eyes widened as she took in the woman - was she a woman? Her skin was green as the pine forests outside Republic City. Her hair was obsidian and stiff, twisted into unshakable tight curls. As she plopped to the floor gracefully, her hair didn't move an inch.

Her eyes met Korra's, green as her skin and filled with aphotic skepticism. "Aren't you going to greet me?" the woman questioned, tilting her head. "Or are you too primitive, Avatar?"

Korra's face reddened, both from anger and slight embarrassment. "Hi," she tried, narrowing her eyes. "You know who I am, but I never caught your name."

The woman's eyebrows arched, almost with surprise. She shifted her eyes toward Meng who was standing adjacent to Korra on the other end of the table. He refused to sit, it seemed. "You didn't even tell your pet she would be meeting her employer?"

_Pet? Employer?_ Korra swallowed hard. Was this green woman her new boss at The Glass Dragon?

Meng's expression did not change. "I was not informed that you were making such a visit," he said carefully with a hard tone.

"How strange," the lady murmured, placing the tip of her finger in the dimple of her chin thoughtfully. "You would think _your_ employer would have alerted you to such things." She smiled, and a shudder ran through Korra's body even though she was still burning up. The smile reminded Korra of Jorn's.

"No matter." The woman brushed her previous thoughts and turned cheerfully to Korra and held out a delicate hand. "I am Harithida, I am the guardian of nature, Spirit of the Forest that once extended across this land."

Korra took the hand for a second, then releasing it and folding her hands back in her lap. "I'm Korra."

"Oh yes," Harithida supposed, "what a pity that yet another Avatar has been forced to surrender their soul." Korra almost jumped, her mouth drying as she wanted to ask the green woman to explain that.

"Are you aware of the terms of her contract?" Meng asked Harithida lowly. He gave up and folded his legs beneath him, sitting at the end of the table.

She chuckled, nodding her head. "I am aware of the...implication."

"Harithida," Meng spoke firmly. "You owe me a debt, if you recall. I am calling for payment." His fingers clenched and his tanned knuckles whitened from the strain.

Harithida's jade eyes contracted, her pupils expanding until all that was visible were slits of black. "I recall."

Korra looked back to Meng, who's facade faltered as he cleared his throat. "If you prevent Korra from ever encountering Avatar Aang, your debt will be repaid," he told her. Harithida seemed reluctant to accept, making Meng lean across the table toward her. "I will never ask of another favor. And I will make sure Jorn never knows."

Harithida parted her lips, about to object but her mouth closed as she gazed towards Korra. Her eyes were skeptical and doubtful, washing over Korra with waves of criticism.

Korra swallowed the urge to react as Harithida spoke. "I will guard her to the best of my ability."

"Thank you," Meng breathed, regaining his composure as he stood. His eyes flashed quickly to Korra, who bit her lip when their eyes met. There was still hostility between them, Korra could feel it. He detached himself , turning around and approaching the door. "I will... let you two conduct your business."

Once the door slammed shut, making Korra jump, Harithida let out an elongated sigh.

"Well, pet - mind if I call you pet?" Her smile glittered with animosity. Not wanting to get on this spirit's bad side, Korra nodded. "Good. As you have gathered, I will be your mistress, and you shall refer to me as Mistress Harithida from this moment forward." She propped her cheek in her green palm. "You will begin work today, and I will dress you and feed you." Korra did notice she was hungry, though not quite as hungry she would have been in the mortal world after not eating for a while.

Harithida let out a nervous laugh. "You are a mess. It looks like you've never been properly groomed in your life," she chuckled. Korra gazed down at body, the tunic still hanging loose. She became suddenly self-conscious as she remembered she still wasn't wearing her wrappings. Korra hugged her chest uncomfortably.

"I'm the Avatar," Korra said weakly. "Not a model."

"That is of no consequence here. You might be a god among men on the other side, but you are nothing but a human here," Harithida said with a warning tone. "You will be serving tea to some of the most sensitive, powerful spirits in this world. You shall conduct yourself with grace. Failure to do so will automatically...result in your demise."

"I-" Korra began, eyebrows pinching. "I will do my best."

Harithida extended a slender green finger towards Korra. "I know what kind of girl you are - you are brash and hotheaded. You must completely erase those unattractive qualities if you want to have any chance of leaving."

Korra blanched, flames rising in her throat as she diluted her anger. "I've already lost so much of myself! My soul, my memories - now who I am?" she demanded.

Harithida's eyes narrowed. "Do you want you lose your life?" she countered. "That can be arranged."

Korra groaned, grinding her teeth. "No, I don't."

"Then you shall do as I say, when I say it, without question," the woman ordered. "Any slip-ups on your part will reflect badly on me, and I won't have that. Meet me in the alleyway next to The Glass Dragon before the meal of dawn." Standing up, the green woman's silvery dress danced in the dim candlelight. Eying Korra one last time, she frowned. "Maybe this arrangement won't be all of our ends."

Turning on her toe, she motioned her arms outward and the door swung open swiftly. Korra thought it would fly off the hinges.

As if on queue, Meng glided through the doorframe and closed it behind him and sighed.

"Korra."

She could feel his voice break slightly as he turned around. His face was as indifferent as ever.

"Meng, we need to talk about last night-morning-whenever you...and I..." Korra stammered, averting her eyes as blood rushed to her cheeks.

"We will," he said tenderly, which surprised Korra as she looked back to him. He smiled, blue eyes deepening as they softened. He walked past the dining table into the small kitchen area where he had a wood-burning stove. Suddenly, he was brewing tea, which made Korra arch a brow.

"It's too hot for tea," she pointed out, the reminder of the humidity - although it had simmered down since before Harithida arrived - made Korra fan her face with her hand. "And besides, couldn't you just use your magic powers to warm it up?"

This made Meng chuckle. "I like tea," he replied innocently. "And I could warm it up, but..." He considered his words. "Doing human things makes me feel human."

After a few minutes, he turned to the table with the pot dangling from his fingers and two clean cups hanging from his other hand.

"You are human," Korra reminded him.

"I look human," he said quietly, sitting down and pouring their tea. "I act human but, without my soul, am I really human?"

Korra gaped in disbelief. "Of course! I mean, I'm human aren't I?"

"Of course you are," Meng said without doubt. He gazed toward the table, and Korra was puzzled by the direction this conversation was going.

"What makes you any different than me?"

**.**

**.**

Apprehension filled him as Meng considered whether he should be honest. The words might seem right in his head, his actions justifiable.

_No, _a reasonable voice firmly spoke in his mind. Barely a whisper, but breaking his thoughts. _The ends were all you cared about._

Did the ends justify the means?

**.**

**.**

"I made a deal, not unlike yours," he began in a hesitant voice. "I knew I was stuck here and my escape was unforeseeable. Jorn, being who he is, took advantage of that fear and offered me a choice.

"I could either be a slave to the spirits, working until my hands and feet were blistered, never holding any control over myself or my future. Or," he broke off, shaking his head. "I could surrender my soul be Jorn's...assistant."

Korra audibly gasped as she stared at him. Lips trembling, she leaned back. "You...you work for Jorn?"

Meng nodded, bowing his head forward shamefully. His black hair feel down into his eyes which stung with tears of anger and regret. "I accepted. To preform my duties, he gave me powers to manipulate things. Like him, I can create illusions."

Korra, for once, thought nothing. Her mind was void of deliberation or feeling. She wasn't angry, nor sad. Nor was she proud.

Then a slender jab of remorse protruded her, forcing her out of her state of clarity. All those things he made her feel - the emotion, the camaraderie, the passion. Was that Meng manipulating her?

"Is everything a lie then?" she seethed, hands clenching on the edge of the table. "When I'm around you, is it you making me feel..." She trailed off, unable to find the appropriate word.

"No," Meng replied hurriedly, shaking his head almost violently. "I wouldn't do that. Everything I told you is the truth. The only thing I did was...soften your confusion when you first arrived. I was afraid that you would go berserk and hurt yourself, so I...numbed your mind."

Korra ground her teeth. "You messed with my thoughts, my mind," she murmured.

"Yes," Meng breathed. "But I did it for you." He sounded so ashamed, so full of regret.

After a few moments of watching his troubled expression, Korra straightened herself. "I should feel betrayed," she said quietly.

Meng glanced up and clenched his jaw. "I wouldn't blame you if you were."

Korra swallowed and examined him. His eyes were a lighter blue than ever before, the warm candle light making them seem like they were drops of liquid silver sunken into his sockets. She hadn't noticed before how dark his skin was, compared to hers, until she saw the stark contrast between the whites of his eyes and his lids.

The feeling she had next felt like falling. Her mind in one place, her heart in another, everything completely divided yet more united than forever before. Her extreme compassion and trust met her equally strong lividity and sense of justice.

"But I don't." Korra's words were stern and almost painful to say. In a swift motion, she sprung from sitting position and kneeled on the table, careful not to knock over the hot tea. Meng inhaled sharply as she came towards him, her hands colliding with his cheeks. She roughly sunk her nails into his skin, but he didn't flinch. Her face was inches from his, their breaths mixing as Meng's breathes became heavier.

Korra's heart stuttered as Meng brought his hands to her face, trembling as his fingers caressed her jaw and brushed down her neck.

"Promise me you won't betray me," she breathed against his face, taking a breath and realizing that she was inhaling his salty scent once more. Meng's fingers clasped around her neck, steadying it as he pressed his forehead against hers.

"I promise," he said with as much passion as he could muster before crushing his lips into hers.

Korra had expected an explosion, like fire meeting water - two equally opposing forces fighting against each other. As his lips moved against hers, she realized that that wasn't happening. They were two wildfires, meeting in an untouched field of vegetation, finally joining in a dance of destruction and beauty as their flames morphed into one and there ceased to be definition between one or the other.

Never removing his lips from hers, Meng shoved the teapot and cups from the table, clearing the space as he lifted them both up. The sound of shattering porcelain was barely audible under their breathing. They both kneeled, wordless passion surging between their lips like electricity. Korra's fingers laced into his hair, and she only momentarily reveled in how surprisingly soft it was. She tugged on it, eliciting a deep resonating moan from Meng that made her tremble with excitement.

At some point, Korra had lost all of her reason. The doubtful voice in her mind ceased to question what her heart longed for. Before she had feared this apathy towards logic, but it seemed only appropriate. This world, dangerous and filled with anguish, might be her last home. Meng, who was a friend and never a stranger, might be the only one to ever elicit such emotions from her. He gave her hope.

Hope is all she could ever ask for when her path looked so hopeless.

Meng's tongue brushed against her teeth, begging for entry which she gladly allowed. He breathed into her, the shocking warmness of his breath making her shudder. Only then did she realize that the apartment was hotter than ever. From their passionate kissing, beads of sweat poured down both of their faces. Groaning from the heat of discomfort, Korra broke the kiss, still keeping her forehead against Meng's.

"Are you making it hot in here?" she whispered breathlessly, his lips pecking hers softly between words.

"Yes," he said weakly, trailing kisses down her cheek and to her neck. As he suckled the sensitive skin there, Korra couldn't help but sigh and fall into Meng. They fell to the table, laying next to each other as her hands explored his body. Untying his tunic, Korra trailed her hands up the planes of his chest. Solid, warm, so warm, she thought as Meng continued to attentively seduce her collarbone with his talented lips.

The sensation of her fingers running down Meng's chest made him want to reciprocate. He reached down to her waist, unraveling the band that extenuated her delicate curve. She flinched as his fingers massaged her stomach, a gasp escaping her lips as his hands traveled upwards toward her breasts.

_No wrappings_, he thought with a sigh of pleasure and relief. One hand still cradling her jaw as their lips collided once more, he touched them gently and Korra hissed into his mouth.

The sounds she made him restless, his desire for her becoming painfully clear. He grasped her face with both hands gently and brought them up, his fingers winding into her soft brown curls. Despite himself and every instinct in his body to take her there, Meng swallowed his needs as he considered Korra.

Barely breaking away from her, Meng murmured against her skin, "you need to get to your job."

Korra, groaning and shaking her head violently and bit his lip in an act of dominance.

He pulled away, trying to regain his composure. Her kisses weren't making it easier. "It's almost time for you to meet..." his voice cracked, and for a moment he couldn't remember that spirit's name. "Harithida."

"No, please," she pled in a child-like way. Gazing down her body, her tunic still hanging open and breasts visible, she couldn't be _less _of a child.

He wanted to be a child with her - selfishly take what he wanted.

_No._ "You need to go to work so you can leave the Spirit World someday," he stammered, still entranced by her brown skin.

Almost as if punishing him, Korra tied her tunic and frowned. "Don't you mean we?"

Meng pursed his lips and nodded. "Of course."

**.**

**.**

Their elbows locked, just as the day when Meng escorted Korra escorted to the city hall, and they walked in perfect synchronization. She had stopped trying to hide her blush, as it wouldn't go away, as she recalled what they had done. What she had _let him do_ to her. She was embarrassed and surprised with herself at the same time; she couldn't help but let her mind focus on the way he kissed her neck.

She forced those thoughts, not from her mind, to the back corners of her consciousness. Her mixed feelings would be considered later. Now, she was about to start the job that her life and future depended on.

Korra saw the tea shop before Meng pointed it out. A large sign was out front the building, letters emblazoned on what seemed to be stained glass - "The Glass Dragon". Korra felt no surprise that the theme of the venue must be glass.

They came to the edge of the alleyway next to the shop, and Meng turned to her, the arm that was hooked to her now hovering at her cheek.

"This is like a dream..." he muttered, a vulnerability in his voice making Korra's stomach flutter. She closed her eyes and sighed as his hand caressed her cheek and then dropped to her neck.

"Maybe it is," Korra breathed, opening her eyes to see a displeased expression on Meng's face. She stepped closer, looking up into his blue eyes with a small smile. "What if we leave, and we don't remember each other, just like we don't remember everything from before?"

"Don't say that," he said in a hurried voice, lips curling into a grimace. "I refuse to ever forget you again."

The passion in his words made Korra's heart flutter at a rhyme that seemed unfathomable. "Me too."

Their eyes caught and the flames ignited, the silent exchange was suddenly broken by the familiar voice of Harithida.

"Oh good, you aren't late, pet!" she called from down the alleyway, making Korra flinch. Meng released her reluctantly, and conveyed with a hurt expression that a kiss goodbye would be inappropriate in front of Harithida. Instead she smiled warmly and turned before the grin fell from her lips. She marched toward the green lady, who had changed from her silvery casual attire into a tight black cocktail dress.

Despite herself, Korra glanced over her shoulder.

Just like waking up from a pleasant dream, Meng was gone.

**.**

**.**

Korra winced as Harithida raked a comb through Korra's hair, the knots from a lack of grooming since she arrived in the Spirit World evident with each stroke.

"You are dreadfully sloppy," Harithida groaned, sighing loudly before waving a hand over Korra's hair. Feeling a strange tingling sensation in her scalp, Korra turned to face the green woman.

"You have powers?" she asked in a monotone. Harithida glowered, arching an eyebrows suspiciously.

"Of course I do, silly girl. Now be quiet."

They sat in a boudoir which was located in the back of the tea shop, where many other human-like spirits leaned over vanities and freshened their faces. Examining the others, each wearing identical black dresses with their hair sleeked back into moistened ponytails, Korra realized that they must have been wearing a uniform of sorts.

Too afraid to ask, Korra watched the other women carefully. Most of them were human, in the sense of having feminine bodies and faces with two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Some of them had odd skin tones, like Harithida - red, pink, blue. Surprisingly, Korra wasn't shocked by their appearances.

The mistress began to apply thick makeup over Korra's face, the powder in the air making her cough. Taking a small porcelain bowl filled with crushed kohl, Harithida swiped a thin paintbrush through the dust and instructed Korra to close her eyes. Delicately, the hairs of the brush swept across her lid, tickling her. Korra did not dare move though.

Next, a thicker brush was used to paint Korra's lips a dark pink. Korra never wore makeup but, as she caught her own reflection, was pleasantly surprised by how nicely the almost-red color complimented her dark water tribe skin.

The murmurs of conversation in the boudoir hushed when the sound of a bell ringing vibrated through the hall. Adding the finishing touches to Korra's makeup, Harithida straightened herself and examined her work.

"The meal of dawn has just ended, and patrons will be arriving soon," she told Korra in a hurried voice. Turning to the other girls she called out, "Begin warming the tea!" They delightfully bustled from the boudoir, waving at Korra who numbly waved back noncommittally.

"Okay, pet," Harithida announced, walking over to a large wooden chest and retrieving a long, black dress from its contents. She held it up to Korra's sitting body experimentally and sighed. "This will do. Come to the kitchen when you are dressed."

Korra took the dress and watched the green woman disappear through a beaded drape that rustled slightly as she passed through. Shedding her clothes, Korra examined the dress. It seemed a little small, but once she wiggled into it it hung on all her features perfectly. Synched at the waist, the definition of her buttox and breasts almost made her blush. The outfit left almost no room for the imagination.

Holding her chin up, she knew that her focus had to be precise if she would succeed at this new job. Giving the wrong spirit the wrong look could kill her. She knew this. Yet she felt suddenly strong and fearless as her confidence swelled. She was the Avatar. Without her bending, without her soul, nothing would change that. She carried the wisdom of thousands of lives deep within her.

She could do this.

Exhaling, she breathed out all the fears that hindered her and marched through the beaded drape into the kitchen. There, she widened her eyes in amazement. The tea was making itself - pots and cups floating from their shelves into the other girls' hands as they called for them. Dishes washed themselves under a steaming faucet of water. The kitchen was practically _alive._

Suddenly a green hand is pushing forward through the crowd of other girls, and a voice is in her ear. "Listen, pet. I begrudge that I must keep a special eye on you," Harithida whispers, her voice scornful. "However, that does not mean you will receive any special treatment from me. One false step, and as stated in your contract, your employment shall be terminated and your fate will lie with Jorn."

Korra's face reddened with anger, though she was sure the change was unseen under the layers of makeup. "Yes Mistress," she said monotonously.

Harithida pushed her out into the lobby area. To Korra's amazement, the entire lounge was formed from glass. Even the flooring was a veil of sparkling white, only slightly concealed by the magnificent brown and gold persian rugs that stretched out across the tea room. The tables seemed to grow from the floor, molten spools reminding Korra of flames. Translucent, glass flames that flattened into a table-like surface where candles sat, illuminating the room.

"You will pour the herbal tea," the green woman said, breaking Korra's trance. Handing her a porcelain pot with a wicker-covered handle, Harithida frowned. "Don't spoil this for yourself." As the green woman marched away, the hem of her black dress flowing behind her, Korra wondered if that was _concern_ in her voice.

Before she could contemplate that, a chiming alerted her that door to the shop had just opened and patrons were flooding through the doors.

Panic raced through Korra as she realized she had no idea what to do. She glanced around, seeing other tea girls standing at the ready with blank expressions as they carefully cradled their tea pots. Korra considered asking one of them what to do, but something about their void faces told her that they wouldn't answer her if she did ask.

Some of the spirits removed the black cloaks that hung over their shoulders, some did not. Of all the ones who did reveal themselves, Korra wasn't shocked. Most of them looked either human-like or human with a mix of an animal.

Korra prayed silently that she wouldn't encounter the yellow-eyed spirit who seemed to drain the life form her at city hall. In a moment of irony, she realized that it was these patrons she prayed to - the spirits.

One of the tea girls moved, making Korra flinch. She glided across the persian rug, her feet invisible under her long black dress but Korra knew she was flying but the lack of movement of the hem, approaching a table with a cloaked spirit. Above the table, Korra noticed, was a symbol. It looked like a water droplet on fire.

At another table, a symbol arose in the air, a ghost-like projection from the spirit. The symbol looked like a plant.

_Herbal tea, _Korra thought, examining her teapot. With a gasp of realization, the exact same plant symbol was engraved on her tea pot. She tried to be graceful in her dress, but eyes turned to watch her. She was distracting them. Too much attention was on her. Korra kept her face emotionless and her chin tipped high as she approached the table where she had been beckoned.

Once she reached it, she hesitantly offered the teapot to the spirit. It was concealed beneath the cloak, but a human hand emerged from the sleeve as it flippantly motioned to the mug in front of him. Korra carefully tipped the nozzle, the tea draining into the cup.

"You look ravishing in that dress." Korra almost let the cup run-over as astonishment pierced her emotionless facade. Her eyes widened slightly - she was sure that was his voice.

"Meng," she breathed quietly. She could still feel the suspecting eyes before her.

"Kneel," he ordered, his voice a little louder. Korra did so, peering up at him with her eyebrows pinched.

"They are watching us," Korra said quietly.

She could barely see his face through the shadow of the cloak's hood.

"It's because you are so beautifully human," he whispered back. In a louder more powerful voice that made Korra shudder he said, "thank you for the tea, young Avatar. You have been a most graceful hostess. Be gone." He waved a hand dismissively as the other picked up his mug of tea.

Stumbling to her feet, she cursed internally as she gazed around the room. It seemed as though dozens of her symbol had began to shone in the air of the tea room.

**.**

**.**

As the day passed on, it seemed the spirits who summoned Korra were more interested in meeting her than the tea. Some were actually quite nice - they made small talk about other Avatars and how they encountered her various past lives. Korra was actually intrigued by many of the stories - she couldn't remember having learned about the other Avatars in-depth before. Perhaps their histories were lost after the Hundred Year reign of the tyrannical Fire Nation. One spirit, who looked like a boarqpine, told Korra about Avatar Kyoshi putting out a wildfire in the forest he watched over. That particular spirit was fond of her.

Another was not as receptive to Korra's charms. He introduced himself as Yho, a spirit who resided over the swamplands in the Earth Kingdom. He informed Korra that he witnessed the civil war that erupted in the Water Tribe, which resulted in the splitting of the tribes into Northern and Southern, some waterbenders settling in his swamp. Yho did not seem fond of humans at all, as he told Korra the civil war was instigated by the Avatar herself, whose daughter had been put to death for using her bending for non-healing purposes. Korra blanched at this - she would have done the same for her daughter. She recalled that the Northern Tribe was partial to keeping women subservient to the male warriors - though she hadn't considered that extreme measures were once used.

Other spirits did not converse with Korra at all, just patiently waited for their herbal tea to be poured.

Another bell chimed through the tea shop just as Korra had gone into the kitchen to receive a fresh pot. All of the dishes ceased to wash themselves, dirty cups settling in the sink and the flames on the stoves extinguishing before her eyes.

A girl with dark red skin came to Korra and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You did well, new girl. For a human."

Before Korra could reply, the girl seemed to vanish - as did all the others. Standing in the kitchen in the silence, Korra sighed and let her emotionless facade break as she let out a shuddered breath.

"Now, pet, it wasn't that bad," Harithida said as she came up behind Korra and snaked an arm around her shoulder. Korra shook her head.

"It wasn't. I'm just not used to keeping my emotions to myself," she said, exasperated.

They walked back into the boudoir, where Harithida took a hot wet rag and wiped Korra's makeup off.

"You are pretty with makeup, but going all-_natural_ suits you," the green woman informed.

Arching a brow, Korra smirked. "That sounded like a compliment, Mistress Harithida."

The lady's eyes narrowed. "I don't compliment," she snapped. Tossing the rag over her shoulder, Harithida snapped her fingers and held out her arms, where a stack of folded black clothes lay in her arms. "These are yours - I threw away those other ones. They smelt putrid and they didn't even fit you."

Korra took the new clothes and smiled. "Thanks."

Harithida waved her hand dismissively. "There is food in the kitchen - so help yourself. Then you may leave."

Korra blinked and the woman was gone, only a light shimmer in the air where she once stood.

Finally alone, Korra tiredly collapsed into a chair sighed. She was tired. She wished that she could sleep.

**.**

**.**


	6. Part VI Surrender

**_A/N:_ **I stayed up until 4 in the morning writing this, knowing that I wouldn't have time to write it. After entertaining a 4, 3, 2, and 1 year old yesterday (my cousins) I was pretty exhausted. So excuse in spelling/grammar/etc.**  
**

Oh, by the way, **full-on lemon** in this one. You have been warned.

* * *

_He who does not trust enough, Will not be trusted.  
**Lao Tzu**  
_

**.**

**.**

**-/ Gateway Part VI /-**

After shrugging out of the tight black tea shop uniform, Korra smiled as she put on the tunic. Although it wasn't as comfortable as her Water Tribe clothes, the black, loose outfit was a far cry from uncomfortable. Harithida had given her several pairs of identical robes and pants, and even a canvas pair of shoes that actually fit. Feeling relaxed and content, Korra settled into the kitchen, picking her way through the pantry.

A smile of victory crossed her lips as she set sight on a beautiful looking loaf of bread. The smell tickled her nose, and her stomach growled in approval. Korra laughed as she pat her abdomen. "Nice, yummy bread it is."

Korra sat on the floor, legs crossed as she tore of bits of the bread and shoved them in her mouth relentless. She hadn't realized how hungry she was - maybe it was her appetite that fueled her need for more bread.

Once she finished the first loaf, she shuffled through the pantry once again. She found a tin can filled with what looked like dried sea prunes. Korra's eyes widened as she ravaged the container until their wasn't a crumb left.

Korra still felt a twinge of hunger, though consciously she knew she couldn't possibly need more food. Her stomach stuck out with fullness. Chewing her lip, Korra considered that maybe hunger was an illusion...like everything else.

Heaving a sigh, she picked herself up off the floor and gathered her things in the crooks of her elbows. She needed to leave before she ate the whole kitchen.

She exited the tea shop the way she came: a backdoor in the boudoir lead straight to the alleyway were she had parted with Meng to join Harithida. Outside, the sun was still up - barely. Korra wasn't surprised; it seemed like the sun and the moon were not slaves to time or perception. They came and went when they pleased.

Once Korra reached the end of the alleyway, slightly nervous to walk in the street with the spirits still roaming about, she wondered where Meng was. He hadn't told her that he'd meet her after work, but she had assumed he would. He took her everywhere. Korra had only a vague idea of where his flat was located relative to the tea shop. Her eyebrows pulled together as she tried to recall the path they had taken. Unfortunately, she hadn't been paying much attention since she had been otherwise...distracted.

Korra groaned and kicked the side of the building she leaned on. It was just perfect. She was supposed to be the independent one - the one who could do things her own way without anyone's help. She was the Avatar, for spirits' sakes! She hadn't realized she was at the mercy of Meng to take her everywhere.

_Well maybe I'll find it by myself,_ Korra thought roughly as she raised her chin. She took a left out of the alley, padding footsteps up the paved road. Hoping she might just stumble across that familiar alley where Meng's front door was.

There were many spirits. They all seemed to be looking at her, but Korra couldn't be sure. She sure as hell wasn't looking at them.

**.**

**.**

Korra was not certain how long she had been walking before fatigue overcame her. Being in the Spirit World must have disturbed her stamina, which was quite high. She recalled the vague memories of her training sessions, where _she_ single-handedly tired her partners before really undoing them with her superior bending abilities. Longingly, Korra sighed as she brought a hand to her face. Despite the insanity of the fact, she was sweating. Her throat ached and her tongue was dry, feeling like sandpaper against her lips as she licked them.**  
**

All the streets looked identical, lined with nearly identical buildings. There were no landmarks that assisted her - Korra couldn't recall passing one building that looked like these when leaving Meng's flat. With a shudder of despair, the realization of helplessness flooded her. Korra was lost.

_Water,_ she thought, letting out a heavy sigh as her eyes fluttered shut. Her feet felt heavy and her thoughts incoherent. Could it be possible she was dehydrated? Korra did not try to rationalize the tiredness that weighed her down. Opening her eyes barely, she saw a slight glitter in the distance. Eyes widening, she realized, in the middle of the street... was a _fountain_.

Despite the weakness in her muscles, her body propelled forward, the sound of her feet pounding against the stone-paved road meshing with the hallow gushing of the fountain's water. It was simply carved from what looked like marble, and was only lavish in the artistic way the water spurted from the center, crystal drops dripping from all sides. Mesmerized, Korra climbed on to the side of the fountain and kicked off her shoes, sticking her feet in the water as she let the fountain shower her face.

As the liquid poured down her body, relief washed over Korra as well. Her lips parted, allowing the water to drip into her mouth. She lapped it up, her body immediately regaining strength. Swinging out of the pool, she instinctively sifted her hands through the air, a motion that, in her world, would bend the water from her skin and clothes. Pausing after she realized that the form had done nothing, her hands clenched into fists.

Korra exhaled, frustration filling her as she gazed down in the water. She longed to move it, to feel every molecule in her body shift as she commanded the water around her. Looking down at her hands, she wished that she could create a small flame that's heat would spread through her body, causing the dampness on her to evaporate.

It was an understatement when Korra solemnly admitted to her self that she felt useless. Practically her entire life she had been conditioned to being Avatar Korra. Very few years she spent being anything but the reincarnation of the Avatar before her. She was aware she had large shoes to fill, which was why she trained so rigorously. However, through her dedication, her whole body and soul had been immersed in bending. She relied on it. She needed it. It was a part of her.

Trying to clear her mind, Korra began to wring her hair like a wash cloth, the water dripping back into the glistening pool. As she did this, she noticed the water wasn't a light, translucent blue. It had taken a yellowish tone... and it was glowing.

Korra wasn't overwhelmed by the peculiarity of the glowing, but nonetheless turned her undivided attention toward the fountain. The splashing water created ripples, but part of the pool became unaffected and seemed to freeze over, still maintaining its glowing state. Korra reached a hand toward it, placing a hand on the solidified area. It wasn't cool like ice, but a moderate temperature. Like glass.

"Korra." The sound came from everywhere, and nowhere at the same time. Glancing around, Korra saw no one. The square was empty. She didn't even see any spirits around her; she had just assumed they were roaming about as she refused to acknowledge them. She heard her name again, and then realized that it was being called from inside her mind.

She inhaled slightly as her eyes locked on the pool again, a profile of a man augmenting from a blurry image into a vivid picture. For a slight moment, the name _Tenzin_ screamed through her mind, although she barely recognized the name. She was confronted with the blurry haze that separated her conscious thoughts from her former memories. Then, the name faded just like dust in the wind. The man might be vaguely similar to that ghost of a memory, but it wasn't him. His jaw was square and his brown-grey eyes protruding from the center of his face. The blue arrow dissecting his profile.

This was Aang.

Korra's face contorted into anger as she stared down at the glowing image. "What do you want Jorn?" she spewed, doubling over as she was confronted with the reminder that he took her soul. He probably ruined her chances of ever talking to her past life, the man he was once again impersonating - except he was older now.

"I'm not Jorn." The voice was hallow, but powerful, echoing in her mind. Korra's eyes narrowed as she watched the glowing figure, and then they widened.

Glancing around frantically before looking down in the pool again, Korra hissed. "Aang! Is that really you?"

His two dimensional chin nodded.

"You - you can't be here," she whispered, eyes still watchful. "If I talk to you, Jorn will keep my soul forever..." She started to exclaim, but Aang's resonating voice in her mind broke her thoughts.

"I know, Korra. I know about the deal you forged with the master of this village. And I know the consequences of him hearing of our meeting, so you must listen carefully." Korra nodded, hesitant but attentive, as she gazed down into the pool.

"The spirits in this world do not like to be challenged, so they will treat you as they would any human. Like an animal, cursed to labor and eventually become a meal when it suits them. However, you are first and foremost the Avatar. Your spirit is forged of the mystic forces that compose the spirits of this world. That spirit might have been incarnated into a human body - thousand times over, even - but you are a spiritual being nonetheless.

"You can leave this world, by yourself, if you access the spiritual power within. You can reopen the gate, so that your body may leave."**  
**

Korra shuddered. "I came her because..." she trailed off, searching for the words. "Because I'm not spiritual. I need your guidance, Aang. How do I open the gate again?"

"You have the potential unlocked; perhaps in a moment of great emotional peril you can trigger the spiritual energy and escape." Aang's voice, although filled with wisdom, was also tainted by doubt. This made Korra grimace.

"Can I..." Korra mumbled, eyes shifting down the empty street. "Take others with me?"

"It is within your power."

With those words, his image evaporated and the water dispersed over the plate of glass where the glowing former Avatar had been. Korra punched her fist into the water, closing her eyes as she exhaled.

She had made a mistake by trying to contact Aang so unconventionally - she apparently had the potential all along. She wasn't broken or an incomplete Avatar like her inner-doubts suggested. Her impatience and desperation had got the better of her, and now she was at risk of _never_ leaving. Being in this world was like walking on a thin sheet of ice - once false move could be her demise. The only comfort she seemed to have was Meng, and he was nowhere to be found.

And what the hell did _emotional peril_ mean? Korra grit her teeth; she had been feeling extremely emotional since she arrived. So afraid.

Korra slid to the ground, leaning her back against the wall of the fountain. She wrapped her arms around her legs, propping her chin atop her knees. Staring down the end of the street, she saw something moving towards her. Squinting, Korra felt like she was evaporating. Meng was coming towards her, jogging along the paved road.

Her chest suddenly filled with warmness, embarrassment at this making her cheeks flush. His expression melted when their eyes met, transforming from the stale mask into complete relief.

"You're alright," he breathed as he dropped to his knees, level with Korra. He reached for her hands, gathering them between his own and smiling slightly. "I was concerned."

Korra rolled her eyes. "I was more concerned about you," she muttered. "I thought it was rather odd you weren't hovering over me as soon as the tea shop closed."

His eyes glinted. "That... was not my choice." They both rose from the ground, standing awkwardly before each other. Filling the silence, Meng elaborated. "Jorn called for an impromptu meeting. He wanted me to...brief him on some of the assignments he's given me. And he asked me about you."

This caught Korra's attention. "Really?" She raised an eyebrow playfully.

"He knew you're living in my flat, and wanted to know if I was 'pining' for you." His lips spread into a mischievous grin, making Korra's heart stutter.

Korra took a few steps forward, closing the space between them but not making physical contact. "And are you 'pining' for me?" she breathed, almost embarrassed by the seductive tone her voice took.

Meng brought a hand to her face, delicately swiping the rough pads of his fingers across her cheek. "Despite the outdatedness of the term...yes," he muttered. "But I told him I was just lonely."

Korra's eyebrows pulled together. "What?"

Backtracking, Meng dropped his hand and crossed his arms. "Korra, I... I am older than you."

Eying him incredulously, she shrugged her shoulders and crossed her arms. "_So_? What does that have to do with anything?"

"What I mean is... spirits. I don't think I have ever been so horrible at verbalizing something in my life," he stammered. Sobering, he relinquished all self-control and embraced Korra in a tight hug, pressing her against his firm chest, chin resting on her head. "You make me feel... alive. Before I found you, I never thought I could feel this way."

Speechless, Korra reciprocated by wrapping her arms around him.

"You are kind, smart, and brave. And beautiful," he added. "I intended to be your friend, because I knew Jorn would take advantage of my feelings just like he's taken advantage of my fear to make me his servant.

"I don't want him to use my feelings for you against me, or to hurt you," he whispered into her hair. "So I told Jorn that... I was keeping you with me to satiate my...loneliness."

Korra swallowed. "Oh," she breathed, understanding. "You mean for sex."

He was silent, so she took that as an affirmation.

"As long as it isn't true," she mumbled, eyes rolling shut as they released each other. His eyes were hard, and they watched her like a eaglehawk.

"Of course it isn't," he said forcefully.

Korra sighed, rolling her eyes at his stiffness. "If you say so." She flashed a smile, hooking her arm into Meng's in that familiar way. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to the flat. You'll never believe who I just talked to."

**.**

**.**

Once they were back in the safety of Meng's flat, Korra explained her encounter with a liquid version of her past life. Meng listened attentively, shocked that Avatar Aang - knowing the deal Korra had made with Jorn - had risked showing himself to Korra. He must have been desperate - this concerned Meng.

He was not the expert on spiritual matters, but Meng found it strange that Meng knew Korra was in Damen Shi. Perhaps another spirit had informed him, but that wouldn't explain Aang's knowledge of the deal. The only plausible explanation was that Jorn contacted Avatar Aang.

Meng shared this concern with Korra, as they sat down at his dining table, and she agreed. "I never thought of that, I just assumed the spirits were all-knowing," she muttered. "But now I'm worried."

Meng nodded solemnly. "At least Aang knows not to come here. Though why would he tell Avatar Aang the terms of the contract if he desired to keep your soul..." He rubbed a hand against his forehead, trying to conjure a plausible explanation. "Jorn _couldn't _have told Aang. He's too greedy to risk losing such a powerful soul."

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter anyways. If I can't get out of here, he might was well keep my soul." Korra's expression hardened as her bright blue eyes locked with Meng's. He tilted his head sympathetically, wishing he could kiss her full, pouting lips. "I just... don't know what to do," Korra murmured, her facade of calm-and-collected collapsing beneath Meng's fingers as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "He acted like being spiritual was so easy. Maybe for him it was, being a monk and all, but not me. I'm abrasive. Rough."

"Perfect," Meng interjected without thinking, making Korra pause.

"Perfect's a pretty strong word, you know." She frowned, looking up at him. His blue eyes deepened, and his face grew closer to hers as he leaned across the table.

"You will find a way to get out of here, because your perceived weaknesses are also your strengths. You aren't passive; you will not go down without a fight."

Korra chuckled emptily. "I guess not."

Without warning, Meng's lips crushed into hers, making Korra whelp and then turn into a puddle of sickly-sweet emotion as she relaxed against him. Their lips moved together at a rate of near-desperation, and Korra broke it to gasp for air.

"You think I'm perfect?" she asked before their lips reunited, her words echoing in the air. Meng nodded, bringing his hands up to grip her cheeks, thumbs resting on the underside of her chin.

"Yes." His tongue brushed against her teeth, and Korra granted him permission to enter her, their mouths dancing in a near-power struggle. Meng swung his legs over the table and lifted them, Korra's legs shaky as a million emotions exploded inside her.

The fight for power ended as they melted together, Korra gripping herself against Meng's chest as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Meng growled against her lips, lowering his arms to grip her backside for support. Fluidly, he carried Korra to his bed and dropped her down on the edge. Korra laid back against a stack of pillows, Meng's knee coming up beside her as he hovered over her body.

"Is this what you want?"

Meng's words hung in the air as Korra stared up at him. His jaw, clenched as if he were holding back, but his eyes glinted with need.

Korra felt the throbbing low in her body, answering his question. She gripped his neck, bringing him down to her. Against his lips, she breathed her response. "Yes."

All of Meng's reservations evaporated and his lips traveled down her neck and he began to suckle against the hallow space bellow her ear. The sensation made Korra shudder, her hands traveling down his chest as she longed to feel his dark skin.

After undoing his tunic, she scratched her nails up the planes of his chest, making him groan against her. His lips shifted down to her chest, hesitating on the base of Korra's neck as he untied her robe. As it was shed, Korra realized that she _still_ hadn't put her breast wrappings back on, and considered that a good thing as the tunic was completely shed.

And then his lips were on Korra's breast, brushing lips making her skin pebble and her hips rise from the mattress. As her pelvis met Meng's, he murmured against her skin as he sucked it, and Korra realized that beneath his loose pants he was quite uncomfortable.

Korra shimmied down, brushing a hand down Meng's abdomen and in between his legs. He shuddered as she touched him through the fabric, making the member beneath to enlarge even more.

Meng rose from her, the ghost of his lips on her breasts making Korra wiggle uncomfortably. He placed a chaste kiss on her lips and smiled deviously. "Someone's anxious," he said breathlessly.

In response, Korra grabbed his hips and brought them down to her, the grinding making Meng's expression shatter and a guttural sound fall from his lips.

"I think you might be a little more anxious than me." Korra grinned and leaned up to kiss him more deeply, while her hands began to undo his pants.

In a moment, his slacks were shed and Korra began to shimmy out of her own. Meng watched as her body wriggled, lust engulfing him as he saw her beautifully sculpted body in its entirety. Her dark skin was darker than his own, creating little contrast, but they still were very different. She was so soft and pure, while he was worn and surely not a pure as he wished he were. Meng wished he were young as Korra, and that Korra could be his first.

By the look on her face as his member hovered at her entrance, it seemed he would be Korra's first.

Korra's eyes widened as she realized that the hard organ she had felt beneath the fabric of Meng's pants was going to be inside her. She watched Meng, who brought a hand to her cheek, a thumb brushing the bridge of her nose.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured. "You are the most beautiful being I've ever laid eyes on." The sincerity and emotion in his voice soaked Korra's tongue, making her speechless. She simply nodded, closing her eyes as she waited for the intrusion.

As he slipped inside her, Korra gasped and dug her nails into his shoulders. Once he was fully sheathed, he was still, watching Korra tentatively as she adjusted. To his displeasure, he watched a few pain-filled tears rush down her cheeks.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, lips lingering as scowled. "I love you," he whispered.

Korra's eyes widened, eyes blurry from her tears, but she could see Meng.

His azure eyes glazed over as watched Korra longingly; they were void of the other emotions that were usually present. No anger, no strife, just something so pure and indescribable...

Somehow Korra felt as though she looked at him the same way. Although the declaration had shocked her, she wasn't surprised. She was afraid. Her emotions got away from her, and developed without her complete consent. Perhaps from the moment they met, his arms cradling her as she tried to adjust to the new world, she had began to develop this connection.

They barely knew each other, yet she felt as though she'd known him a lifetime. She let her mind wander into a territory she once feared, but let the thoughts engulf her.

_Soulmates_. She wondered if the Avatar did have a soulmate, if they even existed. And if there were one soul in the universe that Korra felt bound to - it was the one before her. Invisible strings tied them together before they ever met. An invisible entity pulled these strings for their fated encounter.

Of all people, she should believe in destiny, but the thought of fate seemed ridiculous before. She was the Avatar - her destiny was the most defined of them all.

But was love defined by destiny?

A few moments had passed as Meng watched her. His expression had began to crack, as he feared that he had spoken too soon. He had scared her. He had lost her. Just as he was about to pull himself from her, Korra's cracked lips opened.

"I...I love you too," she stammered. Meng relaxed, bringing a hand to her face to brush some hair from her forehead. "I don't even know how, but I do," she confessed.

"There are stranger things... than falling in love." Meng smiled, almost wincing at the corniness of his words as he kissed Korra again. Slowly, his hips rose, and then fell into her again.

She grunted, adjusting to the movement, and nodded for him to go on. Meng kissed her neck, teeth brushing against her throat as his thrusts became faster. Adjusting to the rhythm and feeling an amazing sensation as he buried himself in her harder, Korra began to meet his thrusts by elevating her own hips.

Meng whispered to her affectionately, as he continued, his words becoming almost incoherent as his grunts filled the air. Korra gripped the sheets beneath her, face contorting as she became overwhelmed withe pleasure. Meng continued to hit the sensitive area within her, her stomach beginning to clench and a warmness filling her. Breathes heavy, she pleaded for Meng not to stop, biting his shoulder as she reached an indescribable peak of pleasure, her vision whitening as she let out a shuddering moan.

Hearing her pleasure-filled noises sent Meng over the edge, his body twitching as he barely pulled out in time before he collapsed onto the bed next to Korra. Their tired panting filled the air as they came down from their high, and Korra rolled onto her side.

For a few moments, she watched him. When his eyes were closed, he was quite peaceful, she noticed. She reached for his cheek and brushed her thumb across his full lips. They parted for her, and he began to suck on her thumb, making Korra gasp.

Meng rolled over and and wrapped his arms around Korra's body, bringing her to his chest as he pulled a blanket over them. She happily snuggled against his warm, naked body and sighed.

"Korra," he whispered into her hair.

"Mhmm?"

He dragged a finger delicately down her spine, making her shiver. "I meant what I said. I've never meant anything more in my life."

"I know," she replied softly. "I meant it too," she admitted, jaw clenching as the truthfulness of her words consumed her.

Even though it was impossible to sleep, Korra felt oddly peaceful and rested as she relaxed against Meng's sturdy chest, the scent of his sweat making her bury her face into him more.

**.**

**.**


	7. Part VII Debts

**_A/N:_ **Finally got this out. Some hot scenes, but nothing major.

* * *

___"A small debt produces a debtor; a large one, an enemy."_  
**Publilius Syrus**

**.**

**.**

**-/ Gateway Part VII /-**

Hours must have passed before Korra opened her eyes again. A euphoric sense of contentment had engulfed her, filling her muscles. Her body and Meng's were entangled, his arms scooped her stomach against him as their ankles twisted. Korra was overly aware of his steady, warm breath against her neck, as he would occasionally lean down and swipe his lips at the top of her spine.

Relaxed, Korra couldn't believe that she could be so void of thought in a non-sleeping state. Mewling softly as she stretched her arms forward, a grin spreading across her lips.

"You up?" he mumbled, tightening his arms around her, making Korra squirm against him.

"I was never down." Korra lifted her hips from the mattress as she maneuvered onto her other side, so she would be facing Meng. Her next quip melted in her mouth as she saw him smile longingly back at her, hands moving from her waist to cup her face.

"If I didn't know better, I would have thought you were sleeping," he told her quietly, his thumb tracing her lips. "You were so quiet. So peaceful."

Korra blushed, shrugging her shoulders and averting her eyes. "You are very calming," she admitted.

"Am I?" he murmured, leaning forward slightly to mesh their lips together. The heat erupted in Korra's chest, stirring every nerve in her body as she struggled to intensify the kiss. Meng perceived this, and all chastity dissipated as his tongue probed the inside of her mouth, desperate to deepen their connection.

As her throat tightened and sweat beaded on her forehead, Korra broke the kiss and scowled. "Stop un-calming me," she snapped. Meng chuckled and and pecked her on the forehead.

"Sorry," he said, not really meaning it. She wriggled out of his grasp, rolling over in the bed before she could steady herself. In a moment of slight terror, she teetered over the edge and began to feel the weight of gravity thrust her toward the floor. She whelped, but her face hovered just above the wooden planks, Meng's hands gripping her waist as he hoisted her back up.

"Why is your bed so small?" she asked, eyebrows pinching together as she sat up more carefully on the end of the bed. She gathered a wrinkled sheet in her hands, pulling it up over her chest to conceal herself. Meng smiled at her modesty, and shrugged his shoulders.

"It's only meant for one person."

Korra arched a brow skeptically. "Hey - when I asked you why you had beds if you couldn't sleep, did you tell the truth?" She crossed her arms as she watched his expression become confused.

"That it reminds me of being human and at home?" he clarified. "Yeah, that was the truth. But I guess that's not the only thing they're good for." His lips curled into a devious smile as he leaned back against the stack of pillows.

Korra laughed loudly, throwing her head back. "Sure, the _thought_ never crossed your mind." Korra's mind drifted to the girls who worked in the tea shop; each of them was as odd as the next, from their impossibly colorful skin to the apathy in their eyes.

"It might have," Meng mumbled, closing his eyes. Korra's jaw dropped and she shifted uncomfortably beneath her sheet.

"What?" she asked, her tone a little more forceful than she intended. Korra had no illusions that he, a mature man, had never been with a woman. Yet, the thought of him lusting for one of those strange spirit-ladies made her upset.

As if reading her mind, Meng shook his head. "No, Korra," he cooed, holding out his hand. "I've only thought about you that way."

Eying him, she pursed her lips and laced her fingers with his. "Before I even got here?"

"Yes," he breathed, mentally wincing at the confession. "I couldn't help but be intrigued by the little memories of you."

"I don't know if I should feel turned-on, or creeped out," Korra mumbled, twisting her lips thoughtfully.

Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, Meng laughed. "_Please_, the former."

Feigning deliberation, Korra heaved a sigh. "Fine..." Crawling back up the bed, she set her hips between his thighs and laid her head against his chest. He cradled her, his forearm supporting her rear as he held her hip, his other hand combing through her long caramel hair.

"How long do we have until I go back to the tea shop?" Korra asked breathlessly, her eyes fluttering shut as the sensation of him massaging her scalp soothed her.

"A little while," Meng replied gently.

Korra rolled over, propping herself up on his chest as she caught his eyes. "Can you tell me what you remember?"

Meng, surprised by the question, scowled for a millisecond before tilting his head. "You already know. You're the only thing I can remember."

Korra's eyes narrowed, as she recognized the hesitation in his voice. She had reached an uncomfortable subject. She didn't like the feeling that he was keeping something a secret from her.

"What _about_ me?" she pressed, leaning closer.

He raked a hand through is hair, jaw locking as he closed his eyes. "Just little things," he began. "Sometimes I get flashes of you with your dog, or you're just walking. I don't think you know I'm there."

"How could I not...notice you?" Korra murmured, eyebrows pinching as she probed her mind. Meng's familiarity wasn't in his appearance, but rather his air. His confidence and power, his strong voice and blue eyes that sometimes glittered like silver. Korra examined his face longingly; the bone structure and the vividness of his emotions were pure and unforgettable.

"I don't know." Meng lifted his chin, fear and shame mixing with his confusion. "Sometimes, I see you and you look afraid. I feel like you're looking right at me, and you're afraid..."

Breath catching, Korra's mind raced with vivid flashes - concealed silver eyes glaring down at her, the sensation of foreign hands crawling across her skin. Shuddering, Korra laid her cheek against Meng's sternum.

"I was afraid of you." She said quietly, no question in her voice. She could feel the pounding of Meng's heart in her ear, the rate increasing.

"I am uncertain." He swallowed, resting a hand in the crook of Korra's shoulder, drawing circles with his thumb. The familiarity of the feeling, rough and smooth all at once, raised goosebumps on her delicate skin. Inhaling sharply, Korra jerked away as dormant fear flooded her.

Her head began to throb and she brought a hand to her forehead, rubbing the space between her brows as she hoped the pain would subside. Lights flashed in her eyes as she caught glimpses of darkness, a stark white mask protruding from the shadows. Slits were carved, the flickering of morbid pleasure visible in the silvery eyes...

"Korra?" The soft and uncertain voice called her from her reverie, her eyes snapping open and locking with Meng's as he leaned closer to her. "Please, talk to me."

Korra could not even make sense of her own thoughts, let alone verbalize them. The ghosts of her emotions invaded the space which should have been occupied by her present emotions. She suppressed her thoughts, trying to recapture the elation she had felt just a few minutes to go. She wanted to shed her doubts, her memories. She didn't want them.

Korra twisted her lips. "I - can't," she stammered, shocked by how saturated and raw her voice was. **  
**

"Do you..." Meng trailed off, his voice lowering. "Remember my name?" He sounded desperate.

"No," Korra answered quickly, shaking off the question. His name was irrelevant compared to the many other things she wondered. "I don't remember your name, but I know we aren't friends." That, she could say with certainty.

"I thought as much." Meng's admission sounded heartbroken, and he dropped his head back to the pillows and proceeded to stare up at the ceiling. "When I first got here, I was filled with too many emotions to sort out. I was confused, and I guess the last thing I was doing before I went through the gate involved looking for you.

"I was angry, and so desperate. Like I told you... by the time I drank the spirit water and was able to calm down, all I had left were those splashes of memories that I clung to."

Korra remained silent, considering his words as he continued. "I don't know how long I've been here, it feels like a lifetime. A lifetime I've waited for something to come and bring me out of the darkness. I never thought I'd see you... the only human being I can remember. The only human being that I know.

"...I never thought I'd fall in love with you."

Those words coaxed Korra from her silence as she closed her eyes. "This isn't right. When we go back, things will be different. I can feel it."

"Yes." His agreement was cold, void of the emotion his words had just carried. In a fluid motion he grasped Korra by her shoulders and lifted her off of him and swung his legs off the side of the bed. Korra knelt, confusion engulfing her as he reached to the floor for his pants.

"What are you doing?" she muttered.

He threw glance over his shoulder. "We can't do this, right?"

Korra glared at the back of his head as he stood. "I never said we couldn't," she spat, wrapping her sheet around her like a dress as she got off the bed, following him. "We just shouldn't."

He looked at her skeptically. "'This isn't right,'" he quoted. "You couldn't be more correct."

Korra doubled over, rage flaring in her as she dove towards him and grabbed him by his bicep. She was still strong, and was able to force him to look at her, still keeping one arm holding her sheet-dress up. "Stop!" she yelled forcefully. "You are so bipolar, you know that? You can't just sleep with me, tell me you love me, and treat me like this."

"This," he said, voice growing in volume as he motioned a finger between them. "Is a connection based on nothing more than the short time we've had together."

"_Bullshit_," Korra muttered, grabbing his wrist and shoving it into her cheek. The contact made her shiver, her blood running cold and hot as her eyes glazed over. She watched his expression break, his jaw clenching as his fingers wrapped themselves around her throat. "I know you feel it." She couldn't even find the will to describe _it_ - although it wasn't necessary; she could see the emotion glistening in his eyes. "This is more than chance."

"Yes," he breathed. His fingers clenched tighter, his finger pressing into a nerve on the side of her neck that made Korra's body tingle and her knees grow weak.

"We will find a way."

He nodded wordlessly, looking away.

Swallowing hard, Korra raised a hand to his chest, tracing the carved planes of his abdomen with the tip of her finger.

He stepped closer, bringing her other hand to his cheek and coaxing his eyes to hers. For a silent moment, they locked in an unbreakable, wordless exchange. With a slight movement of her arm, the sheet Korra had wrapped around her naked body showered to the ground. His eyes instinctively followed the motion, pupils dilating as he absorbed her naked form.

Korra felt more exposed than before, more self-conscious. Was it because she was more unsure than the first time? Was it because she didn't know if Meng would reject her or not?

In a swift movement, Meng bent his knees and scooped Korra into his arms, making her gasp as he carried her to his bed. Laying her down gently, he left a lingering kiss in the area between Korra's breasts, making her shiver. Then, all too soon, the contact was gone and she felt the sheet being drifted over her.

"If we do that again, you might be late. And Harithida might mutilate me," Meng murmured, delivering a playful smirk. Disappointed that her body felt unattended to, she was also relieved that she didn't feel the sting of rejection. Turning on his heel, Meng motioned to the back of the flat. "There's a shower back there." Korra eyed the back wall, noticing a door that wasn't there before.

Korra looked down at herself, the sudden desire to wash her body evident as she felt the sweat caked onto her. She looked up at Meng, who was now hovering at the front door.

"I'll be back soon," he promised. It seemed like his words still hung in the air as the door shut behind him.

**.**

**.**

The warm water gushing down her body alerted Korra to the fact that she was _sore._ Wringing the last of the soap from her thick hair, Korra steadied herself on the wall next to the tub, pushing the curtain away with her foot as she struggled to maintain her balance. Maybe the steam had loosened her muscles, draining them of the adrenaline she had when she and Meng... Korra blushed before she let the thought go on.

She found a stack of towels and patted herself dry, something she hadn't done very often due to the functionality of her waterbending. Once she felt as if she were dry enough, she tied the towel just above her breasts and shimmied open the restroom door.

Examining the flat, she realized Meng still wasn't back. She frowned, gliding over to her bed - bedding still perfectly made compared to Meng's which was a pile of crumpled sheets and blankets - where the clothes Harithida gave her were neatly folded. On top, she noticed, were her breast wrappings. Blood rushing to her face, she realized that Meng must've found them somewhere under the dining table and set them on her bed.

She smiled and shook her head, wondering where her self-consciousness had come from. Only a few hours ago she was bold and fearless. She guessed she had truly descended from her high.

Once she was dressed, she jumped as she heard the door open. She had to admit, Meng had the most impeccable timing.

"How did you know that I had _just _finished getting dressed?" Korra asked accusingly as she gathered her unruly wet hair in a black hair tie.

"I'm psychic?" he attempted, smirking as he came toward Korra. In his arms he had paper bag, which he reached into and pulled out a tin can.

"Sea prunes!" Korra exclaimed, smiling as she reached for the can. She pried open the lid and shoved her fingers inside, retrieving the odd fruit and shoving them in her mouth. Meng watched her with an expression that was almost shocked, and shy of disgust. Korra gulped, grinning sheepishly as she idly held the can. "They're my favorite."

"See? I am psychic."

Korra nodded, conceding, as she sat on the edge of her bed and licked the green juice from her finger tips.

As she ate, Meng began to go on about the day's plans. "I am going to drop you off at the tea shop, and then I have to run a few errands," he said methodically, his eyes her tongue lick her fingertips. He resisted the temptation to help her, contracting his shoulders. "I will come and get you after the final bell."

Korra rolled her eyes. "You don't have to parent me," she mumbled.

"But you got lost yesterday," Meng reminded her, arching an eyebrow. Korra twisted her lips, returning to eat her sea prunes. Meng chuckled, leaning back as he watched the crease between her brows deepen. She thought so much, behind her oval sapphire eyes. He longed to unlock their secrets; in hope that she might remember who he was.

He feared the unknown; Meng was always prepared. Being lost without the simple knowledge of his name drove him toward insanity. It pained him to admit that he wanted to know despite any cost. Although he hoped he wasn't, Meng wanted to know how truly an enemy of the Avatar he had made himself. Was he a petty criminal? Perhaps someone who simply did not like benders? All of those possibilities, in Meng's mind, seemed manageable. He had changed - Korra had changed him. The countless days spent in this parallel, hellish universe had broken him, shattered his hope - but Korra restored that piece of humanity that he had given up.

Hardening slightly at the altitude Korra affected him, Meng tried to suppress the doubtful thoughts in his mind that wouldn't stray. If and when they returned to the human world, they both would have to come to terms with who they were. Feelings, desire, love - all might become irrelevant if they were too different. If the scars of his past were too wide to mend.

**.**

**.**

Korra parted with Meng in the alleyway next to the tea shop, giving him a soft smile and a squeeze of his hand before going toward the door. Her heart twisted as she noticed there had been a change in his demeanor. She was accustomed to him being very disconnected, and then suddenly gushing with emotion, but now he just seemed preoccupied. His azure eyes weren't looking at her, but through her. The thought scared Korra. Although she was sure his feelings were genuine, the insecure, guarded girl itched at her doubts.

When she entered the bourdire, she was immediately met by Harithida who held the same long, flowing black dress from the day before. "The shop opens in twelve minutes, so put on the dress and have one of the others apply your makeup. I haven't the time nor patience, today," she barked, emerald eyes glazing over as she looked over her shoulder. She seemed nervous.

Korra obeyed, stepping behind the dressing room curtain and shedding her clothes. There were a few cubbies in the back of area where she put her tunic and shoes. The black dress, as she pulled it over her head and pulled the silvery zipper up her waist, exuded the smell of jasmine. it was pleasant, filling her nose and making her thoughts swim. It smelt just like the tea Meng made her.

She found another tea girl, who introduced herself as Opa, who offered to apply her makeup. She was swift with the brush, her purple-tinted skin sparkling under the candlelight of the room. She made small talk, complimenting Korra on her flawless complexion and her brilliantly blue eyes. Just As Opa applied the finishing touches, a thick swipe of red paint across Korra's lips, she cupped Korra's chin.

"Harithida is forbidden to say, but I have stumbled across the knowledge; I must tell you," Opa whispered, the vigor and fear in her voice making her hand tremble. Korra's eyes widened, bobbing her head in understanding. "The master spirit is coming."

Korra blanched, her stomach falling as she let out a shuddering breath.

"Jorn," Korra breathed, and Opa nodded solemnly.

"He never comes, but the whispers suggest it so. When he moves, time moves slowly," Opa said, both mesmerized and eyes tinged with fear. "It is a high honor, to have him in our presence. But the whispers of Damen Shi, if you listen close enough, say that he comes with an agenda."

Twisting her lips, Korra sighed. "For me."

"I did not warn you," Opa pressed, eyes becoming very large. "If he knows you knew, someone will be punished for listening to the whispers."

Korra nodded in agreement, giving a soft smile. "I don't know what 'the whispers' are, but I promise I won't lead him on to think anyone told me he was coming."

Opa released Korra's face and pressed a cordial kiss to the top of her head. "You are a kind Avatar. Many have lost faith in humanity, in the Avatar spirit, but I have not," she said quietly. "Your spirit is not any more tainted than mine."

Korra blushed, nodding wordlessly as she tried to suppress her tears. Aside from Meng, this was the kindest any spirit had ever been to her.

Opa scuttled away, as Harithida's voice rang through the bourdire. "Two minutes!"

**.**

**.**

In the kitchen, Korra was handed a teapot with a lilly engraved on the side. Curiosity overcame her, and she leaned her head down to the spout and inhaled the steam that rose from within the porcelain pot.

She winced, coughing as the fumes entered her lungs. The vivid, familiar, and disgusting smell of lilies that confronted her upon her arrival in the Spirit World increased tenfold. She hadn't consciously realized that the scent, as Meng promised, faded from her senses until she inhaled pure lilly tea.

The familiar sound of a bell reverberating through the tea shop made Korra jump. She straightened her posture and followed the other girls out into the sitting area. Korra felt more confident now that she knew what to expect. Any moment, patrons would flood through the doors and somehow they would conjure an image above their table. If their image was the same as the engraving on Korra's teapot - a lilly today - then Korra would be obliged to serve them their tea.

As customers came, Korra noticed for the first time that each dropped a handful of rocks into a clear vase at the front of the shop. The vase began to fill with glittering, colorful stones; Korra realized that the payment must be those jewels.

Her head throbbed as the sparkling of the stones sparked some distant memory that sat in a concealed area of her mind. Shaking it off, she noticed that a patron had summoned a lily over their table and immediately made her way toward it.

The figure sat beneath their cloak, just as many spirits did, and Korra bowed her head respectfully. "May I pour your tea?"

The hood of the cloak moved slightly, and Korra took that as a yes. Leaning over, she tipped the nozzle into the porcelain cup and suppressed a wince as the lily fumes rose into her face. Her stomach curled, and her arm twitched involuntarily. Gasping, she realized that the spasm had caused the spout of the teapot to thrust over the cup, making the tea to spill down the glass table.

"I am so terribly _sorry,_" she muttered, trembling with fear as she brought the hem of her dress up to wipe up the liquid. "I'm so sorry," she repeated, peering up at the spirit. Her muscles seized to move as she caught sight of a pair of familiar, yellow eyes - pulsing with annoyance and rage.

"I came for tea, but I might be leaving with blood," a deep voice rumbled.

Korra stood up quickly and sobered her face. This was the spirit from city hall - the one she looked at funny.

_I haven't tasted a child's blood in years._

"Please," Korra started softly, searching her mind. "_Lo, w_hat can I do to make this right?" she stuttered. The spirit stood up, suddenly very large as his body expanded upwards.

"You can die." Korra shook, unable to move as a cloaked hand reached for her face, onyx black fingers extending toward her in a terrifyingly slow motion. The yellow eyes sparkled, drowning Korra in paralysis.

Gasping, Korra was suddenly shoved out of the way, her hypnosis broken as she crumbled to the floor. "She is protected by Jorn, Lo. You have no claim to this girl." Did her ears deceive her? Korra looked up, seeing Harithida's green form towering over her in an oddly protective stance.

"She is a disgrace, and does not deserve to walk these streets. Her place is in our stomachs."

"All of those things _might_ be true, but any harm to her comes with an awfully high price," Harithida warned.

Korra looked away, feeling the yellow eyes piercing into her. A moment of silence was interrupted by a breathy growl.

"You being the Avatar does not give me any reservations," Lo said, commanding her eyes toward him. Caught in a trance again, the words seemed to be painted with a deeper intensity than before. "I am only servant to one, and you are mutually his property. That is why you still breathe _human."_

Suddenly, the yellow eyes were gone, and so was Lo.

**.**

**.**

Once Harithida ushered Korra back into the bourdire, the young Avatar collapsed into a chair and let out a dry sob. Her throat cracked, and she brought her knees to her chest and set the heels on her feet on the edge of the seat.

There was no other emotion rippling through her beside fear. It was obvious that Lo, whatever kind of spirit he was, was a spirit of terror. He had not touched her, but the tendrils of his essence coiled themselves around Korra's throat and chest and heart. She could still feel the ghost of the sensation, making tears gush about of her eyes as her face began to swell.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Lifting her face from the fabric of her dress, she narrowed her eyes at the perfectly manicured green and that squeezed her shoulder.

"It's okay." Her voice was oddly soft, coaxing Korra to calm down. As if taming a weaslesnake, Harithida stared into her eyes. Deep and green, filled with sadness Korra hadn't noticed before. Korra gulped and relaxed, nodding her head.

"I'm sorry-" she broke off, surprised by the whininess of her voice. "I screwed it up."

"Yes," Harithida agreed, jaw clenching.

A silent moment passed, and Korra looked away. "Am I fired?" she asked in whisper. "Am I going to be spirit food?"

The seriousness of her question was lost, and Harithida let out a long, incredulous laugh.

"Heavens, no, pet," she said, laughter still rolling off her lips. She pulled a chair over, angling it toward Korra. "I think I'm just going to put you in the kitchen for now on."

Korra let out a sigh of relief, letting her eyes flutter shut. "Thank the spirits," she murmured.

Harithida smiled deviously, chuckling as she put a hand on Korra knee. "You're welcome."

**.**

**.**

Harithida proceeded to wash the smeared makeup from Korra's face face with a hot rag, going on about Lo.

"I've never liked him," she quipped, putting a free hand on her hip. "He's the spirit of the mines; so many humans died down there that he just became death itself."

Korra listened carefully, tilting her head. "Why, when you look at him, does he..."

"-Hypnotize you? It's just a power he possesses. Truth be known, I can do the same, but I have no reason," Harithida admitted, shrugging her shoulders. "Okay, I'm done with you." She lifted the rag from Korra's skin and gave a genuine smile.

"Ha-Mistress," Korra murmured, peering up at Harithida with uncertainty. "Why did you protect me?"

The question didn't faze the green woman, but she let out a hearty sigh. "I told Meng I would watch over you. I am a woman of honor - I keep my word."

Nodding in understanding, Korra shifted in her seat. "Meng said he owed you a debt -"

"And that is none of your business," Harithida snapped, narrowing her eyes. Korra flinched, averting her eyes as blood rushed to her cheeks.

"Sorry."

"No, don't be. It's a fair question if we're being completely honest." Harithida leaned back in her chair, crossing her beautifully thin legs. "Are you aware that Meng is Jorn's pet?" Korra nodded, pressing her lips together. "Well, then you must know that he holds quite a bit of weight in this world. _For a human_. I got myself into a little trouble with a spirit named Koh-"

"The face stealer?" Korra gasped, the memory of the story flooding into her mind as her eyes widened.

Seeming annoyed, Harithida nodded. "Yes, now be quiet if you want to hear the rest of my story."

"Yes, Mistress," Korra sputtered, biting her lip.

Shaking her head, Harithida went on. "I used to be very... foolish. I stuck my nose in places they did not belong. After my home, the forest, was torn down and replaced by this wretched town, I began to wander the Spirit World aimlessly. I found Koh's realm, and he was very unhappy to see another forest spirit. I managed not to get my face stolen, but Koh had it out for me.

"When I came back to Damen Shi, Meng was employed by Jorn. I went to him, and begged him for his help - to get Koh of my back. I am unsure on the specifics, but Meng managed to jet Jorn to grant me sanctuary in exchange for running this shop."

Despite herself, Korra felt a glow in her chest. "He saved you."

Harithida let out a prolonged sigh, tilting her head to the side and rubbing a finger across her hips. "He told me that keeping you away from your past life would erase my debt," she said quietly, softening as her eyes trailed up to meet Korra's. "Such a debt...I cannot repay, pet." Her eyes flashed around, as if assuring herself that they were alone. With widened eyes, Harithida leaned very close to Korra, so that her floral perfume intoxicated her. "I told Avatar Aang you were here, and about your contract."

Korra inhaled, lips parting as she tried to find the words to say. Knowing no response would suffice to convey her gratefulness, she whispered, "thank you."

Harithida pulled away and nodded. "You may be human, but you - much like Meng - are nothing like what the older spirits have told us. There is one thing you must remember: the imbalance your kind create in the mortal world directly affects the Spirit World as well."

"Like your forest, that was cut down to build Damen Shi?"

Harithida grimaced, eyes looking faraway.

Shaking her head, Korra sighed. "When I leave, I will remember you. As Avatar, my duty is not only to my world, but this one too."

The green woman smiled, palming the wrinkles from her dress as she stood up. "Korra, I would like you to leave for the day," she murmured with uncertainty. "I think your presence might further distress the patrons. They will sense you in the kitchen. By tomorrow, they will have forgotten."

"They must have short memories," Korra mumbled.

Harithida smiled crookedly. "Haven't you noticed? Here, time is meaningless. A day for you is ten years for most spirits." She turned on her heal, exiting the bourdire through the beaded curtain.

Korra, as she thought about how long she had been in the Spirit World - what, two days? - she felt the sensation that usually told her she was forgetting something. She brushed it off, rationalizing that she had forgotten _many _things.

As she changed into her regular clothes, the thought bugged her. It itched her her temples and she palmed her forehead, trying to suppress her agitation.

Korra walked to the vanity, looking at herself in the mirror. Her hair hung over her shoulders; she almost forgot what it looked like up in the hair tubes and in a ponytails. Sentimentally, she grasped her long brown curls and set her fist at the base of her crown. It made her look younger. She had never thought herself a woman, until she let the curls tumble down her neck again. Her eyelashes, naturally dark, fluttered when she blinked. Her full red lips, still slightly stained with the red pain Opa had applied -

A gasp rattled through her lungs as she remembered what she almost forgot. _Jorn._ He was coming to the tea shop, supposedly to see her, but Harithida was sending her away.

Korra felt the instinct to run back into the tea shop and demand why Harithida would endanger herself by possibly angering Jorn? If he were coming to see her, he would be furious that Korra was nowhere to be found.

_If he knows you knew, someone will be punished for listening to the whispers._

Confronting Harithida could possibly hurt her more. It was _plausible_ that Korra was sent away for angering that spirit.

Then again, Jorn saw through lies. He was Jorn after all.


	8. Part VIII Truth

**_A/N:_ **This was a very hard chapter to write because

1) I was anticipating a mass amount of feels once I finished it and was feeling like a masochist and

2) I wanted to make sure I pinned Korra's characterization right.

So if you think that, by the end of this chapter, she is a little OOC, I apologize and hope you can appreciate the story for what it is!

Thanks for reading thus far! Enjoy!

* * *

_"An error does not become truth by reason of multiplied propagation, nor does truth become error because nobody sees it."  
** Mahatma Gandhi**_

**.**

**.**

**-/ The Gateway Part VIII /-**

Korra ventured back to Meng's apartment; she had made sure to pay special attention to landmarks and the streets they took on the way to the teashop. Her ego swelled when she recognized the familiar alleyway where Meng's door was, tucked in a small alcove.

She gave a frustrated sigh as she wriggled the doorknob - it was locked. Recalling how Meng had somehow used his supernatural powers to shimmy the lock, Korra foolishly wiggled her fingers over the knob.

"Come on," Korra sighed as her eyebrows furrowed. She obviously didn't possess any powers. It seemed she had two options: wait for Meng to come home and let her in, which would be hours based on the fact he told her he'd fetch her from the teashop at the end of the day, _or_ she could break down the door.

Korra looked in the sky, damp rainclouds gathering over the town as muted yellow light shone through them. In the human world, Korra was always able to tell when it was about to rain. Her chi flowed to her fingers, making them tingle. Korra felt a similar sensation as she gazed up at the murky grey clouds.

Slamming her fist against the door, she exhaled a sigh. She didn't want to be rained on. Gritting her teeth, Korra backed away and angled her shoulder toward the center of the entrance, taking a deep breath. With an explosion of energy, she threw her body against the door; the sound of wood crackling and metal snapping filled the air as the wooden panel cracked and Korra found herself rolling across the floor.

Korra picked herself up as she rubbed her shoulder, which would probably bruise. If you can get bruises in the spirit world, Korra thought, laughing a little at the dryness of her own thoughts.

She tried to fix the door, but with no luck. The lock must have strong; the only reason the door broke down was because the hinges tore from the frame.

Korra wiped the nervous beads of sweat from her forehead as she plopped down on her bed. Se stared at the ceiling, her mind swimming with thoughts.

Who is Meng?

She hadn't let herself think about that previously, because she was afraid of the answer. Even before she recalled her dull memories of his antagonism, Korra considered that they knew each other somehow. He was too familiar: his eyes, his mannerisms. She couldn't place him contextually, but her mind throbbed as she knew the gaps in her memories were filled with _him._

**.**

**.**

Meng was running.

Rain poured from the sky, drenching his clothes and making his vision blurry as water dripped into his eyes. His labored breaths filled his ears, the sound of his feet pounding into the wet ground mixing with his thoughts.

_Run. Run faster. Run _faster.

He clenched a burlap bag to his chest, cradling it so that the glass jars inside wouldn't break.

**.**

**.**

He turned the corner of the alleyway, grabbing the wall so he didn't skid across the wet ground. Meng's eyes widened when he saw his front door - mangled and barely leaning against the frame - and lunged forward.

_No, no, no._

"Korra!" he called out before even getting inside. He kicked down the remnants of the door, frantically looking around for the water tribe girl.

Korra sat up in bed and tilted her head in confusion. She saw his eyes flaring with desperation as his arms hugged a sack at his stomach.

Meng almost dropped the bag as relief swelled in his chest. He dashed over to her, kneeling on the floor as he pulled her down to him. Korra numbly let herself be gathered into his arms, heart racing as he nestled his face between her clothed breasts.

"You're alright," he said quietly, the strength in his voice waning as he released her. His face hardened as he clutched the bag against him again. "We have to go."

"What's going on?" Korra demanded as she eyed him, glancing at the bag he was holding onto for dear life. "And what's in there...?"

Meng didn't respond; he marched away from her and toward the wardrobe where he kept his clothes in the back of the flat. With a free hand he rustled inside, throwing clothes and shoes and towels sloppily to the floor, until he finally pulled out wooden box, not very big but the size of a dictionary.

Meng tucked the box under his arm as he pulled out a set of neatly folded blue clothes.

"You saved my clothes?" Korra realized as she walked toward him to take the stack. She pursed her lips as he walked away from her again, not answering her question _once again, _and pulled open a drawer in the kitchen. He pulled out a slender butcher's knife. Just in case.

Korra's eyes widened as he turned to face her. He tucked the knife into the waistband of his pants and waved her towards him as he approached the door.

"We have to go," he repeated emptily .

**.**

**.**

Korra hurried behind Meng as he walked at a fast pace - as if he were deliberately not running but wanted to go at the fastest rate possible.

Korra clutched her water tribe clothes to her chest as she tucked her chin against her collarbone - trying to conceal her eyes from the rain. She was confused and honestly scared about the way Meng was acting - as if something had happened. Her mind raced with the possibilities: had Jorn found out she talked to Aang? Was he about to be rid of her?

Her heart thumped against her chest. _We have to go_.

Did Meng's words, thick yet empty, have a double meaning?

Meng suddenly came to a stop in front of a large, very familiar looking warehouse. As Meng fiddled with the broken lock on the door, Korra saw flashes of herself, hovering in the exact place he stood with a flame flickering from her fingertips. She shook the feeling, following Meng as he cracked the door and slipped inside.

With a large clank, he slammed the door shut and set the box and bag on the floor as he raced across the warehouse floor. Meng was maneuvering a box in front of it, as if to keep someone out.

Korra was angry that he wasn't sharing any information with her. "Meng, what the hell is going on?"

Meng paused, turning to lean against the box behind him. "Change into your clothes," she said, leaving her question unanswered.

"Why?" she demanded, still following his instructions as she untied her tunic. Meng's eyes glazed over, not even enraptured as Korra's body was nearly nude.

"Just...do it." His words were tight; he usually wasn't this _anxious._ As Korra quickly slipped into her loose blue pants and pulled her shirt over her head, she pulled her hair out of her face. In the dimly lit warehouse, Korra noticed him wearing an odd set of clothes. From head-to-toe, was a black and burgundy suit, bronze buttons creating a rectangle on his chest.

"What are you wearing?" she blurted out.

"The clothes I came into this world in," he replied. "We'll need them to get back."

Korra's eyes widened, and she shook her head incredulously. _Get back? _"What?" she said, her voice sounding slightly panicky. "I - why? How? I can't take us back... I don't know how..."

Meng ignored her protests.

"Jorn knows you spoke with Avatar Aang."

The confirmation of her earlier fears shouldn't have come to Korra as a shock, but her knees weakened and collapsed beneath her.

"No," she breathed, looking back up at him. "...does he know _who_ told Aang...?"

Meng's lower lip twitched as his eyes fell to the ground. Korra's breath hitched and she clutched her stomach as she held back the painful sob that desperately wanted to grind between her teeth.

"Harithida was just trying to help!" Korra yelled, her fists clawing the ground beneath her. Her eyes were wide and swimming with fear and pain, sadness and regret. "She...she didn't...you never asked her to find Aang..."

She let her eyes shut as quiet tears dampened her face.

Korra could feel the vibration of footsteps and hear the crunching of dirt as Meng came closer, kneeling before her but not embracing her. She let her eyes open, meeting his deep blue ones with an agonizing sigh.

"I am upset too," he said tersely. "But we must concentrate on the matter at hand. You _must _to tap into your power and _leave this place._" Meng's voice broke as he swallowed. "Jorn found out that Harithida betrayed his trust and assisting you in violating your contract. He tried to get me out of Damen Shi with a 'job' but I heard-"

"The whispers," Korra finished, grimacing as she looked away. Meng's eyebrows furrows, but he didn't pause to ask.

"He was coming for you. He was going to kill you today - I thought I was too late. I rushed to the tea shop, one of the tea girls said that Harithida had been taken away when Jorn found out you weren't there.

"I ran back to city hall," Meng said as he reached across the ground to clamp his fingers on the burlap bag and dragged it toward them. "I stole these while he was gone. There is no going back. There is no living in this world. It doesn't matter where we go, how fast we run... we will die for angering Jorn."

He lifted the flap, and a bright light shone inside the warehouse which was only lit by a single, large light in the center of the ceiling. Korra's jaw dropped as she watched Meng carefully pull two of the jars from the bag, small orbs of colorful light dancing inside them. The blue light, Korra recognized immediately: her soul.

She grabbed it from her hands, fingers wrapping around the glass. She immediately felt its warmth, the comfort of her humanity consuming her as she pried the lid open.

As soon as the light was freed, it raced in a circle around her head before popping through Korra's slightly parted lips.

Meng pulled the other jar from he bag, his also a shade of blue; his was darker though, shrouded with a tint of black and almost ominous in the way it glowed.

"Is that your soul?" Korra reached out to touch the jar, her fingers brushing against the glass. She immediately felt electricity in her fingers, making her jump.

Meng's voice was barely audible when he answered: "Yes."

He slowly, achingly, screwed off the jar's lid and the blackish blue orb rose slowly until it was right in front of his face. He watched it, equally mesmerized by it as Korra was, and slowly opened his lips. The ball of light slithered its way inside.

Meng gasped, dropping the jar and letting it roll across the floor. He hugged his stomach, eyes rolling back in his head as he fell forward into Korra's lap.

She frantically adjusted his body so that his head was facing up, eyes looking right into hers as she bent over him.

"Are you okay?" She combed her fingers through his soft black hair, knuckles rocking against his forehead as she smoothed it.

"I feel so alive," he replied. "Human."

"You always were," Korra reminded him.

He didn't reply. Regaining his energy, Meng rolled out of Korra's lap and stood up. He shook his head. "There's something I...need to show you. I think it might help you crossover."

"_Us_," Korra amended.

He looked up, blue eyes glinting as his expression solidified. He held the wooden box from earlier in his hands, and it was taking every ounce of self-control to keep his muscles from shuddering.

Anticipation, hope, fear, doubt... drowning him in the pool which were Korra's eyes.

"Open the box," he said as he passed it to her. Still sitting on the floor, she laid the box on the ground and unhooked the latch.

Meng felt his heart rate increasing, knowing that the point of no return had been crossed. He swallowed the need to rip the box from her clutches, knowing that the truth might be her only chance.

Korra squinted in the darkness, slowly opening the lid.

She couldn't breath.

She couldn't move.

The mask is the only thing she could see.

**.**

**.**

Meng watched, not daring to take a breath, as Korra opened the box. As she leaned in close, curiously, he visibly saw the color drain from her face as she inhaled sharply.

That was when Meng knew he'd lost her.

In the box, was the mask he'd been wearing when he arrived. The only thing that truly tied him to his past - a past that was within his fingertips yet so far away. He thought that her seeing it would spark her memories, and maybe some dormant spiritual part of herself. A part that she needed to access the Avatar within her.

She reached forward timidly, brushing her tanned fingers against the mask: her thumb pressing against the crimson circle on its forehead. Her lower lip twitched as she snapped up to look at him.

Meng wanted to say a million things, but only a small puff of air came through his lips.

Korra's eyes snapped up to his, pupils dilated and her brows furrowed as she attempted to harness her fury. With no luck. "_Monster_," she growled, suddenly springing to her feet, her trembling body melting into a loose fighting stance. She held her fists up, and she could feel the flames growing on her fingers, illuminating the space around them.

Her blue eyes were shallow and defeated - swimming with dozens of emotions. The orbs looked like those of someone who had been betrayed.

"Korra," he said, holding up his hands in surrender as he stepped back. "Please, calm down."

She threw a stream of fire in his direction, causing him to flinch from its path. She remembered him, who he was. "Who am I?" he whispered, causing her eyes to go crazy and wild.

"You know who you are!" she cried out, her voice tight; a cross between pain and rage. "You...you knew all along. You used me, _all along..._" she ground out, her face contorting with pain. Meng shook his head frantically as he came closer to her.

"No...I didn't use you." The words were strong. Unwavering. He stepped toward her and bowed his head. "Whoever I am, everything that's happened is real. _It's real to me_. It's real to you."

She looked at him skeptically, eyes narrowing before she lunged toward him.

The move was sloppy - easily avoided.

Meng ducked out of the way, Korra's leg flying over his head as he caught her other ankle in his fist. He pulled her, angling himself so that when she did fall she wouldn't hit the ground. She'd fall into him.

Korra groaned, protesting against his hold on her. Meng wrapped his arms around hers, pinning them to her sides as he shushed in her ears.

"Get off me Amon!" she screamed loudly, flames suddenly bursting from her lips. Then, he mentally grappled her last words.

"What did you call me?" he hissed into her ears. She continued to wriggle against his chest.

"_Get the fuck off me Amon!" _Korra repeated with much more fervor as she elbowed him in the stomach. He gasped, releasing her. She clamored to her feet, staring down at Meng's pained form with the most heartbreaking glare.

"That's not my name," he said quietly, looking up at the regal woman before him. She was so beautiful, even in an agonizing state - inflamed beyond peaceful discussions. "That's not my name."

Korra couldn't do it any more. She couldn't pretend to be strong when she was falling apart. When she was being shredded like tissue paper, melting as easily as ice as Meng's expression was filled with desperate confusion. Eyes tinted with admiration.

She couldn't do it it.

A light flared in her stomach, making her body feel like it was on fire. Energy pulsed through her veins violently, and she was suddenly aware of every moment in her memory, all at once. Every second she lived her life over. Every breath she saw the thousands of memories of the thousands of lives that came before. Dashes of faces she'd never seen, but recognized immediately. Glances of places she'd never been, but knew like she'd lived there her entire life.

Her eyes were glowing, and she heard the whispering of a thousand voices combined with her own.

_The glow is the combination of all your past lives focusing their energy through your body._

_"It is done." _Korra heard herself speak, her voice overlaid with many others, making her sound demonic and godlike all at once as wind rushed around her. Staring through the tinted blue eyes, she stepped toward the man who laid in the floor.

His eyes danced with fear, as if he knew his end was coming. Korra held out a hand, offering it to the man. Her anger was amplified, but the spirits within her mind commanded mercy.

"_No human belongs in this world."_ Her power was fed by that simple knowledge.

Just as the mans fingers wrapped around her own, light exploded all around them and the Spirit World faded into oblivion.

**.**

**.**

The lieutenant palmed his forehead through the thin material of his mask, stifling a yawn as he lifted the binoculars to his goggles.

"Why did he go in the warehouse?" one of his men asked, almost indignant. The lieutenant snapped up to eye him, knowing that although his goggles were tinted that his subordinate would know he was glowering beneath them.

"Do you question our leader?" Lieutenant asked, his voice gravely from the cold.

"No, no, of course not," the other equalist sputtered, adjusting himself as he looked down into the alley. They sat on the rooftop adjacent to the warehouse where Amon had went inside just a few minutes ago. The Lieutenant found it quite odd: first scaring away the Avatar's polar-bear dog, luring her outside and then subduing her, then throwing her over his shoulder as he reentered the large metal building.

Odd. He did not question Amon's actions. Doing so would only cause repercussions that would hinder the revolution. The lieutenant sometimes observed disturbingly odd things, but never spoke up. He was loyal to Amon, and Amon was loyal to the cause. Lathering those simple truths in distrust would increase the duration of the revolution, most like resulting in the failure of equalization. He would never jeopardize that.

The lieutenant sighed. "Perhaps we should..check on things," he muttered reluctantly. Nodding to the other chi blockers as he tucked this binoculars in to their case on his belt, he threw himself over the side of the roof, sliding down the wall as he created friction against the brick with the steel toes of his shoes.

**.**

**.**

Korra's eyes snapped open in an instant, the waves of energy and power waning his her body's temperature lowered suddenly. She gasped the cold air around her, clawing at the darkness as she tried to register what had just happened.

Her mind, it was blurry. Like before. She screamed at the numbing sensation of not being able to remember, not being able to touch her memories. She thrashed violently, her weak limbs crumbling beneath her and she collapsed to the floor.

_Pain_; she felt pain like nothing. Her body hurt all over, but not the kind of pain she was used to. It was ike someone had clawed at her innards or fed her some kind of poison. Her stomach pulsated, and the instinct to vomit swelled inside her. She hunched over, clutching her stomach as her body tried to force the contents of her stomach upwards. Apparently, though, her stomach was empty and only sour saliva spilled from her lips.

Korra wiped her wet mouth on her wrist, hissing as she tried to suppress her pain. She patted the ground, trying to navigate where ever she was. Her hand suddenly smacked into a warm lump of thick fabric, and Korra felt a quick breath of air escape her lips.

She wasn't alone.

She scooted herself closer to the body, running a hand up it until she felt the sensation of skin against skin. Judging by the shape and the racing pulse underneath her fingers, Korra assumed it was a neck. Her hand traveled up higher, and she expected more skin - but her fingers brushed cold porcelain.

A mask.

Her body began to tremble involuntarily.

She held out a free hand, instinctively summoning a flame into her palm. The feeling of chi pulsing through her body, making her blood cold and warm all at once took Korra's breath away; it felt like it had been years since the last time she bended.

The flickering ball of orange illuminated the body before her, sprawled face-up on the ground. The white mask protruded from the darkness, and Korra's face contorted in anger.

"_Stupid_!" she yelled slamming her fist into the ground, causing the earth beneath them to ripple slightly. He was not roused from consciousness. Her body was twitching, a fit of rage raking under her skin and leaving her feeling as if she had been burned.

Bile and hatred swelled in her throat and she wanted to kill him.

Korra's face fell into her hands and she muffled her violent screams in her skin. Everything came rushing back to her, each little memory thrusting into her abdomen like an earth disk in the pro-bending ring. The nape of her neck tingled with the recollection of his lips whispering against it; her scalp burned as she recalled the gentle tugging of her hair as her mouth moved against his. She felt her stomach spasm as she remembered the intense happiness and pleasure that fell over her when his hands crept down her naval...

"Why...?" she hissed into the silence, raising her head to stare at him again. His mask, plastered into that smirk. The _fucking_, smirk.

By then her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and she watched him carefully. Her heart throbbed in her chest, demanding that she see the face of the true betrayer, not the mask and the cowardice that went with it.

Her hands wretched closer to his face, and she wriggled on her knees, closer to him. Bowing over his body, her lips tightened as she unbuckled the mask from his face. Anger wracked against her again, and she wanted to slam her fist against his nose. Break his jaw, his skull right open. Make him wish he had never touched her. Never lied to her.

_Never met her._

Korra pushed the mask off, and choked moan escaped her lips as her eyes focused on his face.

_Mutilated. _That was the only coherent word that her mind could conjure to define the image. The structure of his face was instantly recognizable; the jaggedness of his jaw, his proud nose, and his round pink lips that pursed in his peaceful, unconscious state. Korra's rage seemed to evaporate, sadness and pity left in its place as she took in his scars. The area around his eye sockets were molten, eyebrows burned off years ago and never came back. Deep, white marks came up his neck and sprawled across his right cheek like a fishing net.

Korra leaned closer, and she could smell him. The musty scent, strong and intoxicating, made tears pool in her eyes. She had thought this man a monster for what he'd done... she had never considered what it took to make a monster.

_It takes a demon to make a monster,_ her mind suggested as she wondered what kind of person would scar a human being so mercilessly.

No control over herself, Korra lifted a hand, reaching slowly to cup his face.

She tried not to indulge herself in the softness of his skin, because it only caused more pain.

_You lied to me,_ a voice in Korra's mind whispered with despair, the sting of betrayal turning into an intense burn as her fingers ran across his cheek.

The man she gazed down at was Amon. She knew that. But he was also someone else, someone she had caressed and kissed and loved...

_And loved..._

Korra grit her teeth and let a a sob escape through her lips, her breaths becoming uneven as she squeezed his cheeks between her fingers.

_"Meng..."_ she whispered underneath her own cries; saying his name was painful, because it was a lie.

_Everything was a lie._

She suddenly felt a warm hand close around her wrist.

_"That's not my name."_ The terrifying timbre of his voice sliced the saddening silence; the lower registers of his voice causing Korra's thoughts stagnate, but his tone was gruff and words lined with fury.

Korra opened her mouth, not even knowing what she was going to say, but he jerked her arm until it was pinned behind her. Her cheek pressed against the dirt as she cried out against the hold. She could feel her joints grinding as they moved into an unnatural position.

"Meng!" she growled, dirt getting into her mouth as their wrestling kicked it into the air. "Amon!"

_Who are you?_

Her violent thrashing was becoming too much for his already-weakened body to handle; Korra could tell it was an act of desperation when he finally stabbed his fingers into the pressure points at her neck, paralyzing her.

Korra was on the edge of unconsciousness, hazily looking up as he rolled over her limp body.

His eyes, wild and mad, narrowed as he watched her body. Their eyes met for a moment, making Korra's blood boil as they twinkled with what looked like smug pride.

_I hate you, _she thought venomously as she clung to the remnants of her consciousness.

But when he knelt down, picking her body up ever-so gently - cradling her neck in his left palm, Korra knew that every fiber of her being disagreed.

The last thought before her mind slipped into darkness was: _I am in love with your lie, Amon._

**.**

**.**


	9. Part IX Missing

**_A/N:_ **I am getting way too attached to these characters, emotionally. Gah. I got quite emotional after writing this one. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Shout-out to my bud alchemistextraordinaire (on tumblr) for being my beta. I was in desperate need and now... SO HAPPY.

* * *

**.**

**.**

**-/ The Gateway Part IX /-**

******.**

**.**

After Amon managed to subdue the Avatar, her unconscious body hitting the ground with a deafening thud, he attempted to sort his cluttered thoughts. He was unsettled by how blurry and strange his thoughts were. Glimpses of a majestic and eerie place splattered across his disjointed memories. His head split with pain.

The damp and cold air filled his lungs as he breathed shakily. The crispness filled his chest, painfully, but reminded Amon of reality. He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling deeply. His eyes flashed to the ground, where the Avatar seemed quite disturbed considering her mind was basically in a sleeping state. If he were being completely honest, her contorted expression disturbed _him._

The white and red of his mask caught his eye.

_The Avatar saw your face._

The realization didn't alarm him as much as he thought it would. As it _should have._ Nevertheless, his weak knees folded beneath him as he bent down toward the mask. Just as he buckled it to his face, he felt the rush of cold air hitting the back of his bare neck. He spun around - the quick movement made him dizzy and splotches of black filled his vision - only to see the reflection of green in the moonlight. It was his men standing in the doorway, moonlight pouring over their shadows.

"What happened?" The familiar and concerned voice sparked Amon from his daze, and he hardened himself.

"Lieutenant, why are you just now getting here? Didn't I tell you to come when things got out of hand?" He gruffly stood, despite the weakness in his limb, towering over all of his chi blockers.

"We came as soon as we suspected the Avatar… was causing trouble. It has only been minutes since you came inside," the lieutenant said, holding his kali sticks lazily in his fists as he caught sight of the inanimate body on the floor. "It seems you didn't need us after all."

Amon hesitated, something he usually did not do, as he absorbed his subordinates' words. _Minutes_. Was that how long he had laid on the floor before the Avatar's touch stirred him from his benumbed state? His mind throbbed at the thought, deeming it impossible. Strangely, it felt like it had been much, much longer. What had happened before that? How did he end up on the ground with the Avatar hovering over him?

_Why did she call him Meng?_

"Of course I didn't," Amon berated, his voice dropping. He turned around, gazing down at the girl with a scowl hidden beneath his mask.

"What should we do with her?" The lieutenant lurched forward, side glancing at Amon.

"Electrocute her and put her in one of those crates." Amon turned to the others. "Call for a transport vehicle; we are taking the Avatar back to headquarters."

**.**

**.**

Sleep had to wait.

His first priority was securing the Avatar; after the Equalist transport vehicle arrived with a more suitable container in tow (Amon had no illusions that a wooden crate would hold the Avatar on the ride back to Republic City), he made sure that she was safely tucked inside. He tried to ignore the fact that his eyes lingered on her too long as the lid of container shut. He blamed it on his barely-conscious mind.

Some inner part of him decided against personally transporting the Avatar to her prison cell deep within the Equalist compound, even though such an important matter he would usually attend to himself. He was furious that she had overpowered him, if even for a moment, and was even more frustrated by the fact that he couldn't _remember_ the incident.

Instead he warned his lieutenant not to underestimate her, eying the platinum container. He wondered if she already stirred within - if she were listening to him as he spoke.

"Avatar, I made a promise to save you for last," he said firmly, his footsteps heavy (so if she were conscious, she would be aware of his proximity) as he padded toward the container. "I, however, made no such promise not to make you my prisoner."

He held out a hand to his lieutenant, who dutifully handed him a kali stick. Flipping the switch at the bottom, the rod came to life - sparking with white and blue.

Something tugged at him, a voice he had buried many years ago, as the rod hovered over the base of the box. Not quite touching. The voice betrayed his inner doubts.

Disgust crept across Amon's face as he sensed the weakness in himself, and he drove the kali stick against the metal with unnecessary force, grunting as her harrowing chokes and screams filled his ears. He focused on the sound of the buzzing electricity, burying guilt and doubt just as easily as it crept up on him.

**.**

**.**

Korra let out a long, pained groan as her eyes fluttered beneath her lids. The blanket of thoughtless ignorance lifted, her body aching all over as she tried to stretch herself out. A cheek pressed against cold, damp concrete, she almost reveled in the low temperature. It eased the soreness in her cheeks, probably reducing the inflammation. She could feel the beginnings of bruises.

She propped herself up on an elbow, squinting in the darkness. She was in a small cell - four metal walls and a rather small door with only a small, barred opening.

Korra held out a hand, flicking her fingers as a test. Nothing - no flame. She clawed against the concrete, knowing that bending processed rock like mortar was nearly as difficult as bending metal - which she had yet to master. Once again, nothing. Clearly, her chi was still blocked, but desperation assured her that she didn't _need _bending to mess up the next person who walked through that cell. She was the Avatar.

However, the flaw in her little boast was that it was fueled by fear and not confidence.

When she flinched at every sound, Korra couldn't tell if it was because she was anxious or afraid. She leaned toward the latter, mostly because she was crying. Though, behind her tears was a much more pressing matter that she tried not to think about.

Her attempts to maintain composure failed miserably as she let out a choked sob. Burying her face in her knees, legs flush against her chest; Korra began to sink into a pit of anger, her chest encased in a piteous black aura.

She felt used. Stolen, used, and shattered. She thought the sting of Mako rejecting her was painful -this was so different.

Meng -_no_, Korra amended, _his name is Amon_- touched parts of her, both emotionally and physically, that no man had ever touched. He took advantage of her vulnerability, her fear, and used it against her. Just like he did in this world.

Korra could not get over the fact that he was an amazing actor.

Another cry bubbled in her mouth as she wondered how many times he had dazzled people who were in his way with charm and courtesy. How many women had he seduced with words like fate, love, need…

A frustrated scream sliced through the air as Korra slammed her fist against the wall behind. Heartache didn't matter when her life was on the line.

**.**

**.**

Once Amon reached his bed, located in a chamber connected to his office within the underground compound, sleep did not find him. He was more exhausted than he'd been in years; it was as if the entire Equalist movement had been powered by some rush of adrenaline that had suddenly run out.

What kept him awake though? Amon continually ran the day's events through his mind, but couldn't help but feel the gaps in his memory. Coherently, the last thing he remembered before waking up on the ground of that warehouse was peering through his binoculars at the young Avatar as she wandered the town. Undoubtedly the holes in his memory were concerning.

Amon rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Absentmindedly, he brought a hand to his face, almost shocked to feel the cold porcelain beneath his fingers. Why should he be surprised? He rarely removed the mask except to eat and for hygiene purposes. He had no reason to remove it; he was a monster beneath it.

Yet, he couldn't help but be overthrown by a morbid curiosity. Amon shifted the mask up his face slightly, and he realized his own hand was trembling as he did so. What was wrong with him?

He touched his own cheek, a feeling akin to being electrocuted shooting up his arm. Images were emblazoned across his mind, the ghost of softer hands cupping his cheek. He let the image linger, despite the warnings blaring that they weren't so innocent. Caught between sleep and awake, Amon took a deep breath, inhaling a smell that was there and wasn't. Lilies. He moved his head, as if to lean into the soft hand that wasn't there either. Involuntarily, he swept his hand across his cheek, the scar tissue making him wince until he stopped on his lips.

Amon had always filed away his humanity in his search for retribution. He never let primal desire even come close to invading his thoughts. But tonight his walls crumbled beneath his exhaustion.

He could feel a shadow of a memory, ambient but dull, nestling in the pit of his stomach. Lips, soft and timid, brushing against his. Doubtful, yet passionate; hopeless and desperate to be close.

His fingers prodded his own lips open, exhaling a warm breath as his skin flushed.

_"Korra."_

Was that his voice?

Amon shot up out of his bed, thoughts of pure undiluted logic drowning his demented thoughts until they were gone. Confusion sprang, unhinging the logic as he searched the recesses of his mind for the meaning of his _insanity_! He shoved his mask forcefully back in place, tightening the strap as if never to remove it again.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he dared not try to wipe it away. Amon lay back down, taking his comforter tightly between his fingers as he grimaced.

He couldn't trust himself, or his thoughts, in this state of exhaustion. He was going mad.

_Mad_.

He shut his eyes tight.

**.**

**.**

Amon knew sleep found him when his eyes opened and he was hunched before a fountain.

_Where is she?_

He stares into the water, entranced by the rippling of the moonlight which shone over his shoulders. Was the moon really that shade of gold? He rubs his eyes, forcing himself to look away for the pool of water.

His fingers clench the stone edge, steadying him as he panted for breath. How long had he been running? Fear encases him; hooded figures linger and watch him. Eyes bright and terrifying eye him as if he is their next meal.

He has never felt such fear.

The light is different in this place, wherever he is. It is nearly blinding. He lets his body fall to the ground and leans against the fountain side.

_I must find the Avatar._

A hooded figure towers over him, and his eyes follow up the black cloak until he sees a face gazing down at him.

"You are human." The voice sounds warped; low and oddly human in timbre though, suggesting that perhaps this figure wasn't a monster like the rest.

He doesn't trust himself to respond coherently so he nods.

"Your name?"

He thinks about this, and fear flares within him. He knows nothing except of _her_. His lips curl in disgust, her coy smile almost materializing before him. He vaguely sees her tossing a ball of fire in her hand, playfully, mockingly.

_Sick_.

Though he does not remember his name.

"You have forgotten already." The voice is filled with sadness; kneeling down, he carefully watches the figure's arm extending toward him. A finger touches his forehead, and more images flood his mind. Bizarre and mystic, they tell a story, thought he does not understand the story. "You come to this world, selfishly and defiantly. But not by chance, human.

"Your mission, your cause is misguided. You defy the Avatar Spirit, the only link between this world and yours."

He inhales sharply, barely digesting the words before they slip from his mind, forgotten.

"Spirit World," he realizes, gazing up at the spirit.

"You walk on a different plane than she; soon your path will collide with the one you seek. Wars are not won by force, but with passion and words. Remember this, human, and perhaps doom will not be your fate.

_"Perhaps."_

**.**

**.**

Amon woke up, panting for breath as he clawed at his mattress. He winced as the contents of his dream poured over him, stomach twisting into knots of uncertainty and sadness.

Livid, he threw himself out of bed and rushed to his bathroom. Carelessly, he ripped the mask from his face, the strap snapping and the buckle clattering on the floor. He frantically splashed water across his face, hoping that he was still caught in a dreaming state. If this were a dream, he needed to wake up.

He scrubbed his face, nails digging into the divots of his scars as he tried to wash away the memories. They were branded in his mind. They weren't creations of his imagination.

They were real, tangible as his mask. Tangible as the Avatar caged only a few hundred feet from where he stood.

Amon finally looked in the mirror, his face scarred and red from the ditches his fingernails made. He hadn't looked upon this face in years.

But he recognized himself. He knew the shape of his face and definitions of his features. Despite being marred, it was familiar.

He remembered.

He remembered_ everything._

**.**

**.**

Korra watched the door of her prison cell with bated breath, waiting for the right moment.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage and she knew the adrenaline was pouring into her veins. Much more adrenaline than she need.

Just as she managed to slow her breaths, she heard the door to her cell shutter. Korra perked up, rolling over her hips to the corner where she cowered in the darkness. Waiting.

Dark yellow light poured through the doorway, and a shadowy figure entered. Korra, with feral roughness, pounced like a predator on prey, grunting as she slammed the figure against the wall. Metal clattered when something fell to the floor, but Korra ignored this and pinned her enemy against the wall.

Her eyes were splotched with red, probably from the adrenaline, and Korra didn't notice that the woman in her grasp wore a fearful expression. Pressing her forearm against the woman's throat, Korra growled. She hadn't even planned what to do with her captive once she got one. Perhaps use as a hostage? No, that wouldn't work; a chi blocker would only get her from behind.

Her mind swam with desperation; once again, she had failed to think things through. Perhaps Korra could steal her uniform… except she was dressed like a normal person…

Korra's thoughts were abruptly halted when she felt the woman's hands clawing desperately at Korra's arms. Squinting through her rage, the Avatar realized that the woman's eyes were alight with distress. She was making choking sounds, too.

Korra was alarmed; shocked that she was choking the woman!

Repulsed by her desperate animalism, Korra released her captive and backed away, pressing herself against the back wall. The woman gasped for air, clutching her throat instinctively as she coughed.

"You don't deserve to call yourself Avatar!" the woman spat at her, venom in her words as she scuttled from the cell, closing the metal door behind her with a loud clank.

Korra slid to the floor, returning to her cowardly fetal position, her quiet _sorry_ lost in the echo of metal-against-metal.

Korra couldn't help but agree. She had gotten herself into this mess; if she had stayed on Air Temple Island as Tenzin told her to, none of this would have happened. She would have never gone to Damen Shi, and would have never run into Amon. And then neither of them would have been sucked into that place and Korra's insides wouldn't be torn to shreds.

She had learned nothing, except that her trust shouldn't be given out like spare change.

Korra nervously clawed at her arms, hoping that the pain might pry her from this nightmare. She obviously was too weak to escape yet; but her end might be approaching and she needed a plan.

Korra closed her eyes, gasping as she remembered she did learn something in the Spirit World. How had she transported herself and Amon back? That peculiar memory was blurry, blurrier than everything else. She recalled her eyes setting upon that mask, the mask that haunted her nightmares, and then falling into a pit of senseless rage.

And she remembered glowing.

Had she made contact with the Avatar Spirit? Was that how they left? Aang had told her, that day when she found his figure materializing in the fountain, that she could contact her spiritual side by experiencing '_a moment of great emotional peril.'_

Korra snorted. Yes, finding out that the first man who ever had sex with you is actually your greatest enemy who basically wants to kill you and take your life and destiny away and hurt your friends and basically the world; discovering that a spirit who had saved your life -_ twice - _died in the process of doing so…

That surely did elicit an extreme level of emotional peril.

Korra adjusted herself, settling into the airbending-style of mediation, her balled fists pressing against each other.

Focus. She took a deep breath, visualizing her thoughts being exhaled along with the air in her lungs. Inhale. Exhale. _Clear your mind, Korra._

Korra felt a surge of energy, her chi pulsing and a glowing feeling rising in her stomach as she sharply inhaled once more.

**.**

**.**

Suddenly Korra found herself standing in a field, waves of amber and green swaying in the wind that blew through what seemed like a farm field. Dazed, Korra spun around. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to figure out where the hell she was…

Her stomach lurched when she saw a great, majestic sky bison settling on the ground, pressing the grain stalks to the ground as its belly flattened.

Korra stepped toward it. "Oogi?" she murmured, gasping as she realized that this sky bison was much larger, and its fur was darker…eyes much older…

"_Appa_,"she breathed, smiling wide as she dashed toward the bison and hugged his neck. She could feel his strong pulse under her arms, and she felt tears of happiness sting her eyes. It was like seeing an old friend.

She must be in the Spirit World, but this time it was on her own terms and in a much less frightening place. Plus, she had Appa -the famous spirit guide of her predecessor that was also quite fierce and protective.

Appa grumbled happily, turning his head to lick Korra across the face. She giggled, but wasn't grossed-out. Naga did the same. Korra frowned as she remembered that she still didn't know what happened to Naga. She must have got away from the Equalists…maybe she would find Tenzin! Tenzin knows Korra wouldn't go anywhere without Naga.

That was out of her control, though. She had to focus on the matter at hand.

She shifted so that she could look directly into the sky bison's eyes. "Can you take me to Aang?" Appa roared an affirmation, so Korra climbed into the old-fashioned saddle and grabbed the harness in her fists. Biting her lip, she tried to remember how to make a sky bison take off. _Oh yeah_ - "Yip-yip!"

With that, Appa lurched from the ground and began to sail through the sky. The ground beneath her disappeared, and was replaced with colorful fluffy clouds. Korra wasn't even sure she'd seen most of those colors before.

She was witnessing a side of the Spirit World that she hadn't before; she was seeing it as a _beautiful _place, not one filled with terrifying beings who want to keep your soul in a jar or drink your blood. Korra shuddered at the reminder of that horrid place.

The clouds began to thin, and in the distance she saw an immaculate temple built high on a mountain top. She remembered it from her history lessons with Tenzin; it was an Air Temple! Korra's excitement swelled - the White Lotus never let her travel the world and see the sights. Not even her predecessor's home.

Appa landed gently on a patio just outside the largest temple. Korra slid off his back. Her feet hit the ground with a gentle thump, and she felt very light. Perhaps it was the altitude? Korra shook her head, laughing at herself. Did the Spirit World have to follow the laws of physics?

Appa immediately lifted off again, as if he had other business to attend to. Korra looked around, eyes widening when she saw a man standing in red and orange robes just a few strides away.

"Aang!" she called out, running towards him and not even resisting the urge to wrap her arms around the older man. He seemed surprised, but embraced her with a smile, caressing her hair in a fatherly manner.

"Korra, I am so very glad you made it here." They parted, and Aang rested his hands on either of her shoulders. His smile was teasing. "Finally."

"Finally," Korra repeated, sighing happily. "I was so afraid that I was a no-good Avatar. Does this mean I know how to airbend now?"

Aang chuckled as if he knew something she did not, gesturing toward the temple. "Follow me."

She walked beside him, feeling like an equal, as they entered the temple. Inside was another pair of doors with a strange contraption on them - two funnels creating a swirling pattern, and also acting as a lock. Korra looked at Aang, her confusion clear in her eyes.

Aang stepped forward, raising his arms and falling into a loose fighting stance. "Only a master airbender can open these doors."

Doing a quick and graceful form, Aang's arms drove forward and air whistled from his hands and into the funnels, the sound of locks clicking open and the whining of the door hinges immediately following.

Korra was in awe when she saw the inside of the chamber. Thousands of statues, presumably her past lives, were lined up in the balconies of the temple and on the ground as well. Noticing Aang was walking toward the center, Korra rushed behind him, a million questions hanging on her tongue.

Before she could ask anything, he spoke. "Every statue in this room depicts a life you have lived. Our faces come and go, but we are all essentially the same."

Korra snorted in disagreement. "You and I are nothing alike." They had come upon what seemed to be the end of the line, because they were walking past Avatars Korra recognized - Yangchen, Kuruk, Kyoshi, Ruku, Aang…

And finally, where her statue was supposed to be, there was nothing.

Korra's eyebrows furrowed, and she looked to Aang. He chuckled, acknowledging her confusion. "Typically they don't make the statue until you die," he clarified. "But my point remains the same.

"We," Aang gestured to the chamber as a whole, "share one single goal, and one single fear. The former being to maintain balance, and the latter being -"

"Failing," Korra breathed, scowling as she stared at the floor, picturing the White Lotus arguing over whether Korra even deserved a statue. If Amon succeeded and killed her, and then exposed what they _did_, surely she would be a disgrace. They would try to blot out her time spent as an Avatar, and probably keep her next incarnation in a compound more akin to a prison cell.

She flinched when she felt Aang's hand on her shoulder. "You cannot focus on your mistakes, Korra," he said softly. "Because, after a thousand lifetimes, you surely aren't the first to make them."

"Yeah," Korra replied, not convinced. She glanced up at her predecessor, twisting her lips. "What if… I do fail?"

Aang tilted his head and smiled. "You won't." He suddenly turned around, as if someone was calling for him. "Unfortunately, our time together has ended."

Korra shook her head, feeling something pulling her upward. "Wait! Aang! How do I get away from Amon?"

"Follow your instincts," he said, voice waning as Korra's vision started to go white.

_Like that helps, _Korra thought, blinking her eyes and opening them to darkness.

**.**

**.**

She didn't even have time to digest her little visit to the Spirit World when she saw the door opening. _Instinct_ commanded her to rise to her feet, falling into a defensive position. Knowing that she wasn't alone made her feel stronger, even as fear still bubbled in her throat.

She recognized the man standing in the doorway - it was Amon's lieutenant.

"Heard you had a little incident earlier," he said judgmentally. "You know there are consequences when you try to kill people." He reaches over his shoulders, pulling out his electric rods and turning them on. They buzzed to life, and Korra lurched backward at the thought of being electrocuted again. "It's a shame; that woman was _just bringing you food."_

He sauntered toward her, and Korra didn't even know what she was doing. Throwing a fist forward, the air pulsed around her and the man was thrown backwards. Her eyes widened, and she stared down at her own hands in disbelief. Did she just airbend?

She shook her head, knowing that any and every second was valuable. She hopped over the lieutenants body, grabbing one of his kali sticks and electrocuting _him _for good measure. He needed a dose of his own medicine anyways. "I wasn't trying to kill her," she said quietly, even though she knew he couldn't hear her.

Korra weaved through the halls, breaths becoming uneven as she found herself trapped in a maze of a prison. She tried to open different doors, but all of them seemed to be locked. Frantic, Korra summoned flames onto her fingers and began to pound a fist into a random metal door. Slowly, the metal began to melt but she knew she was making a racket. Her jaw tightened, but then a smile grew on her lips as she felt the door was loosening.

Just as she was about to give a final blow, a hand rested on her bare neck - causing the flames to disappear and her arms and legs go numb. Korra cried out, turning around and throwing a weak arm toward her attacker with a guttural scream.

Her fist was caught, and Korra stood face-to-face with her attacker.

_"Avatar,_ you are making quite a commotion, aren't you?"

Korra found herself looking up at him, through the slits in his mask and into his deep cerulean eyes. Her mind instantly became paralyzed. The depths of blue took on a brownish tint under the shadow of his mask in and the yellow overhead lights. But she knew those eyes. She'd never forget those eyes.

He released her clenched fist, and her body collapsed to the floor, still numbed from when he touched the chi point on her neck. She protested, mind screaming for her muscles to move. She couldn't.

"Two of my people, you have attacked today. Is that right?"

Korra glowered up, not answering. She had almost forgotten how utterly terrifying Amon was; not the persona he conjured up to sway her, to weaken her. It was all she could do not crumble under his gaze.

"You should know better than to anger your captors, or haven't you learned?" Korra's lip curled, and she looked away from him. He responded by grabbing her face, pinching her cheeks in his fingers. She was forced to look into his eyes again, and she couldn't help but reveal her sadness as they narrowed upon her. Her skin tingled under his touch, a stark reminder of all the other places those fingers had touched. Despite herself, Korra felt a familiar warmness in her stomach, face flushing with redness. She hoped he didn't notice. "Perhaps we should take this conversation to another venue."

He released her, throwing her head towards the ground and grabbing her by the shirt collar just before her forehead slammed into the floor. He dragged her down the hall, a dead weight, until they reached a door several yards away.

"I may be your prisoner, but I'm still the Avatar!" Korra yelled indignantly. He ignored her, lifting her up and tossing her into a chair. Korra rocked, scowling as she clenched the arms, peering forward as she saw Amon take a seat behind a large, wooden desk.

He stared at her, masked and emotionless, as his hands joined together atop a stack of papers.

It was like he was waiting.

Korra refused to break, at least more than she had already. A stubborn sense of strength pulsed through her, and she didn't let their gaze drop. From the short distance, and even through the slits of the mask, Korra could tell he was grimacing. She knew his face; the slightest narrowing of his lids revealed he squinted in concentration. In both pained and pleasured - in a sick way, perhaps - Korra to know she knew more about him than probably anyone else. You can't fake facial expressions, Amon, Korra laughed darkly within herself.

The silence was becoming agonizingly painful; Korra knew that he would never fill the silence. She grew uncomfortable with reminiscent thoughts flooding her mind. She couldn't hold them at bay, despite her hardest attempts.

Yet another wall of resistance crumbled beneath her, as she identified that part of her wanted to talk to him.

"What do you want, Amon?" Korra finally asked, leaning forward in her seat. "A ribbon? A trophy? Because if there were a contest for evil sonsofbitches, you'd get first place," she spat venomously. Korra allowed the anger to boil in her blood, knowing that the anger was the only thing that kept the despair at bay. She would never give him the gratification of thinking that his little romantic facade broke her.

"I am flattered you think so highly of me," he replied emptily. "I should, however, be giving you an award of some sort. Your capture was all too easy."

_Easy_. The word stung in her mind, a dirty feeling creeping across her skin. She shuddered.

Amon reached across his desk, grabbing a rolled up newspaper. He gently smoothed it flat against the table and slid it towards Korra. "You see, the circumstances of your disappearance… have worked in my favor."

Korra looked at him, confused, and then glanced down at the paper. The headline read:

_Avatar missing, Councilman Tenzin suspects supernatural forces at play_

Her eyes traced the article, her heart rate increasing as she caught a quote:

_"'Avatar Korra wished to investigate mystery of Damen Shi…we found her polar-bear dog wandering just outside the town…this is discerning…'"_

A breath catching in her throat, realization sets in. "They don't know you have me."

"Precisely."

Korra ground her teeth, searching for the right words.

"Tenzin thinks that I'm stuck in the Spirit World… just like he warned me might happen." Korra shakily exhaled, bringing a hand to her head to rub her aching temples.

"You don't miss a thing, Avatar _Korra_," Amon said sarcastically, sitting back in his chair. She couldn't help but flinch at the sound of him saying her name.

Korra's face reddened and her eyes snapped to his. "Why is it that you don't want credit for my capture? Isn't that what this is all about? The glory?"

"You are mistaken. Glory is only a welcomed result of my true goal."

"Your true goal? Are you kidding? You _love _being in front of those crowds; they eat your words from your hand like candy - "

"They do so willingly; you, however, force power upon others with your abusive bending," Amon interjected, his voice terse.

Korra ignored his remark. "You want that glory, but you hide behind a mask - _coward." _Taken by her fury, she sucked the roof of her mouth, gathering a ball of saliva under her tongue and shooting it toward Amon. An insane chuckle bubbled on her lips as she saw her spit dripping down that _stupid mask_ and onto his suit.

Slowly he raised a hand to his mask, wiping the bulk of the fluid from his mask and flicking it to the side with a snap of his wrist.

"Your manners are laughable, Avatar," he said, almost in a hiss.

Korra snorted. "You're the one holding me captive. _Again._"

"Except this time, I'm not letting you go," he replied. Korra's eyebrows furrowed; did she hear a semblance of _passion _in his words? Nonsense - she was reaching. Her own desperation was getting the better of her…but still…

"There's a tiger-elephant in the room, Amon," she said suddenly, her demeanor shifting as she looked away.

A few silent moments passed before Amon replied with an impressive lack of emotion. "And what is that?"

"You _know_." She glanced up, twisting her lips. "You don't have to wear that mask."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Avatar," he said coolly, standing up and placing his palms on this desk as he leaned toward her - an attempt at intimidation. "And why should I remove my mask and reveal my identity to you?"

"You _know _what I'm talking about! Don't pretend you don't," she stammered, anger swelling in her once more. "I've seen your face."

"You saw my face in _darkness; _you couldn't possibly remember what I look like."

Korra hesitated, her stomach clenching. "That's not what I was talking about."

"I am growing weary of this game," Amon said. "It's time for you to return to your cell."

Korra turned as she heard the door opening behind her, the sound of pulsing electricity filling Korra's ears as the lieutenant sauntered towards her. His lips were curled into a unforgiving snarl.

Korra barely had time to scream before she was struck across her cheek with a rod; the last sensation she consciously felt was a pair of warm arms lifting her crumbled form from the ground.

* * *

**Okay, I know we left the Spirit World, but I just couldn't abandon it completely... This will probably be the last of the bulky-Spirit World journeys. Chapters to come may consist of flash-backs and whatnot.  
**

**To say the least... THINGS ARE COMPLICATED. I hope I can write the next few chapters well enough to stay loyal to the complications...**


	10. Part X False Pretenses

**_A/N:_ **This chapter is a bit shorter, but only because I wanted this to have its own moment. I spent a lot of time thinking about how I should write this... and it flowed so here goes **something** :)

By the way - CAN'T BELIEVE I'VE MADE IT TO CHAPTER 10 WOOT WOOT. I honestly didn't/don't know how long this is going to last, but I did not predict me making it to chapter 10. YAY FOR AMORRA POWER!

Shout-out to my bud **alchemistextraordinaire** (on tumblr) for being my beta.

* * *

**.**

**.**

**-/ The Gateway Part X /-**

******.**

**.**

Korra's eyes snapped open when she felt the sensation of pins and needles piercing her skin. Except, they were quite literally _pins and needles._

In her neck to be precise. Korra seized her throat, muffling a cry as her fingers prodded under her chin. It felt like hundreds of foreign and pointy objects had buried themselves just next to her jugular. Faintly, she knew that was bad. Katara had taught her human anatomy in her healing lessons – though Korra had paid little attention due to her preoccupation with the more abrasive side of waterbending – and she knew that the throbbing vein parallel to ear was fragile. If the needles struck there…it might all be over.

Korra kneaded her throat, feeling cold metal clamped around her like a collar. She tried to dig her fingernails beneath it, but the pain only increased more. Whimpering, she clawed at the band, which simultaneously resulted in more needle-like intruders to stab into her.

White filled her vision as her body writhed. Frantic, she felt the fight-or-flight instinct overwhelm her even though her greatest adversary was some sort of torture device. Since fighting was out of the question, she was inclined to question her surroundings for _flight_.

Where was she? Korra couldn't see; her partial blindness was either due to the pain or perhaps the probable darkness of what felt like the damp and frigid cell she was in before. Korra hissed as she sat up from a laying position, holding her hands out to feel the space around her. She found a wall to her left, and proceeded to turn around so she could lean against it.

"Careful." Korra jumped at the voice, quiet and cautious, and then turned her head toward the source. She squinted through her dampened eyes and blotched vision into the void. Her teeth ground together as she searched for the words that would inflict the most pain.

Abruptly interrupting her thoughts, she felt a warm, delicate hand brush the underside of her jaw. Korra squawked in surprise and instinctively captured the hand and twisted it until her heard his cries of pain mingling with her own. She released him, narrowing her reddened eyes into the darkness.

"Get away from me…go away," she mumbled weakly as she resumed to pick at the metal collar. The pain of the needles was beginning to fade, but she had to get them out. She could feel them, under her skin, moving as she did and scraping the flesh under the surface.

"You're going to hurt yourself." He reached toward her hand and grabbed both of her wrists, pinning them to her sides. Korra suddenly felt as someone had robbed her ability to breath. His vicinity both terrified and excited her, something she couldn't explain in her shallow vocabulary. Inhaling shakily, she recognized the musty scent of sweat and salt… but the sickly-sweet lining was missing just as it was from this world. She gulped, realizing she was taking too much pleasure in his scent.

"What do you care, _Amon_?" she grumbled, tinting her voice with as much venom as she could conjure. "You put a torture device on me and expect me to believe you have my best interest at heart?" Her chin bobbed up, pleased with her retort.

"The device was not… designed for torturing," he responded dully, achingly uncertain too. This surprised Korra. Of course she had heard him sound reserved, but she reasoned that was a different persona. _Amon_, the man who haunted her nightmares, was never hesitant. Never the slightest bit gentle.

_He's playing you again, _the hurt and paranoid girl cried from within. Korra scowled, her logic almost agreeing, but doubtful.

"Then what is it?" she snapped.

Korra could sense a change in his demeanor. He morphed into a more stolid and familiar form of himself. "It will electrocute you every two hours, to take the place of chi blockers doing the job. I haven't the resources nor patience to babysit you through the duration of your imprisonment."

"'Fraid I'll beat one of them into a pulp? Again?" Korra goaded, a cross between a snarl and a smile growing on her lips.

"What a disappointment, yet not shocking: an Avatar without remorse."

Her face fell. "You're one to talk."

No response. She wriggled away from Amon's hold, pressing her back against the wall behind her. Korra suddenly realized that her tailbone wasn't sore from rocking against the concrete floor. She patted her hands beside her, feeling a cushion-like substance beneath her palms.

"Is…is this a mattress?" she asked timidly. She hoped Amon couldn't see the blush creeping in her cheeks as she recalled the last time she'd asked a similar question.

_If you—we—can't sleep, why do you have beds?_

The question was so innocent, yet compelled her mind to stray into more sensuous territory. Her stomach stirred and she shifted uncomfortably.

Amon exhaled. "I do regret putting in that cold, dank cell. It occurred to me that if you are treated like a wounded animal, you would most likely act like one."

Korra ignored the underlying insult in his words and gathered her legs into her chest. Taking a deep breath, she gazed into his direction. Her eyes were adjusting and she could see the crimson circle of of his mask protruding from the dark. He must have been sitting in a chair of some sort because their faces were nearly parallel. She rested her chin thoughtfully on her knees.

"Why do you wear the mask?" she inquired quietly. Noticeably, he shifted with discomfort.

"A successful revolution needs more than a leader, it needs a symbol," he explain methodically, as if he had rehearsed the line in his head a thousand times.

Korra twisted her lips. "You're the _symbol _of equality, yet you call yourself leader?"

Amon hesitated, slightly confused. "Pardon?

Korra rolled her eyes. "You talk about the inequalities between benders and nonbenders – yet I've never once heart you preach about the _other _inequalities. How do you justify Hiroshi Sato being the richest man in the Earth Kingdom while there are kids – benders and nonbenders alike – who are starving on the streets?"

"More social distinctions arise between the benders and nonbenders," Amon replied tersely.

"_Bullshit_!" she explained, rolling over so her legs were beneath her and she was sitting on the back of her calves. "If I hadn't been the Avatar, I would have lived and died a waterbender. But I wouldn't have learned to defend myself, because women aren't allowed to waterbend for any purpose besides healing in the Water Tribes. Did it matter if I was a bender or not? No! There is more discrimination and more inequality based on _gender_ – there is no such thing as true equality!"

"I am _aware _of that," Amon growled, edging closer until his mask – which was more clear and startling than ever – was only inches away from her face.

"Then tell me _Amon_, is your true battle for Equality? Or is your little revolution just a twisted, misguided form of revenge?"

"I will not dignify your ignorant tongue with a response," he snarled, voice constricting as well as his eyes.

Feeling as if a wildfire had ignited in her chest, Korra couldn't contain her pettiness. "You have it out for benders because they killed your family and messed up your face. Well you know what? Aside from the gangs, which I one-hundred percent disapprove of, I haven't met a single bender who would have the heart to do something half as bad as that."

"In _this _life, perhaps," he spat, voice lowering. "Do you forget the villains of your past lives? Were any of them nonbenders?"

Korra's mouth snapped open, but she couldn't conjure a retort.

Amon's eyes went alight with sick pleasure. "You see, Avatar, bending corrupts the soul. It causes man to do unthinkable things," he said, the heated passion evaporated from his words as they smoothed over. Korra was both amazed and disturbed by how convincing he sounded; for a transparent moment, she hesitated on her stance.

"There are evil nonbenders too," she murmured. "Like you."

He chuckled, leaning back and shaking his head with amusement. "Your own power has corrupted your sense of right and wrong. What I am doing is merely a product of war; you are the epitome of the bending establishment, and to win this war I must steal their hope…the Avatar.

"You would do the same to me, for I am the beacon of hope for the nonbenders."

Korra brushed her fingers against her neck, feeling the sting of needles submerged around her throat. With a little more sadness than intended, she muttered, "I would never do this to you." She averted her eyes, swallowing hard and subsequently hissing as pins dug deeper into her.

"I…regret being such a poor host."

"No," Korra whispered. "You don't."

She lifted her eyes to his, a pang of misery striking in her chest. Normally she would fight and scream until her unrepentant rage overshadowed her grief. But now she was too tired to fight, especially with Amon.

"When will this thing electrocute me?"

Amon was silent for a moment, thinking. "Perhaps an hour. It's a prototype; the timing mechanism is probably off."

Exasperated and annoyed but the excessive lack of control she possessed in her situation, Korra leaned back and pressed the crown of her head into the cold wall behind her. "You should leave."

"I should." Amon made no movement.

"Then get _out_," she gritted.

"You're probably used to getting what you want, being the Avatar and all, but do not forget that I am your captor." Amon leaned forward and rested a hand on the edge of the mattress.

For emphasis, Korra tilted her body towards him and met his fiery gaze. "I don't want you here any more. You're a liar, manipulative… and I _hate _you."

For the slightest moment, Korra thought he cracked under those words.

"I can understand why you think all those things of me, but perhaps if I knew the context I could… change my horrible ways," he replied teasingly. Korra huffed her hot breath over his mask, frustrated, and he winced.

"You want me to spell it out for you?" she murmured. Her hands slowly rose from her sides, and they were trembling. He didn't seem to notice, as his eyes were fixed on hers.

"Yes."

Korra took a hesitant breath, _voice of reason be damned. _"I thought at first that you had been using me all along…in the Spirit World. And that's why you're acting the same Amon I've always known," she started. "But that doesn't make sense… if you were manipulating me, you'd be using it against me now. You haven't.

"You're going out of your way to act like you don't remember anything," she sighed. Her hand hovered just next to his face, and he spotted it. With a lightning-fast movement, he snatched her by the wrist, his fingernails digging half-moons into Korra's skin. She winced, maneuvering her arm so she could mutually clench his wrist.

"I don't want to remember either," she said in a barely audible voice. "But we can't pretend."

Korra felt her body temperature rise exponentially and she swore her blood was boiling. Her eyes bore into his, and she couldn't read them. It was strange to feel so uncertain. It had a certain dichotomy: any moment he could take her and please her just like their sordid night in Damen Shi; fear crept into her mind as she realized that the complete opposite was more probable.

Swallowing her doubt, Korra released his wrist and he released hers as well. Korra's heart fluttered as he let her hand continue to creep toward his face.

When her fingers touched the cheek of his mask, Korra shuddered at the coolness of the porcelain. She saw him visibly swallow, and she leaned closer.

"Why do you wear the mask…?" she muttered softly, echoing her earlier question, and her fingers gripped around the edge. He flinched, clasping his hand over hers as his eyes widened.

"Stop," he said, but with very little power. Like he didn't mean it.

She ignored his protest as and smiled crookedly. "To the rest of the world… you're symbol. But to me," she slid her hand from beneath his, forcing his mask upward. "You're just a man."

He audibly exhaled as he closed his eyes. The mask dragged ever-so-slowly up the bridge of his nose until it settled on the peak of his head. With her other hand, Korra pushed back the hood of his tunic, subtly combing his hair back and reveling in its softness.

Her eyes drew over his face again, and her chest exploded. It's not a mask she sees: no lies, no manipulation. Vulnerable and hesitant: this was the man she knew, had grown to know in a world so alien it didn't even feel like anything more than a dream.

Of course it wasn't a dream.

The scars that ravaged his face barely registered in her mind, until she pressed a languid palm against his cheek. He jerked, but didn't protest, his lips parting and heavy breaths mixing with her own. Korra's nimble fingers traced the divots and burns, wondering how he got them. They told the ugliest of stories – ones of death and pain and loss. But they didn't make him ugly. They were like thick strokes of paint, adorning his face with truth and character.

"Am I just the Avatar to you?" she asked, hardly hearing her own voice above the thrumming of her heart in her ears.

Amon's eyes opened, the unutterable depths of blue almost numbing her. They glazed as his eyebrows furrowed.

"_No_," he hissed.

Korra bowed her head down to his, gasping as he closed the distance between them and their foreheads pressed together. The need for more contact was unbearable; Korra's eyes closed as she dragged her thumb down the outer side of his jaw, then coming up to his lip. She felt a distinct scar that created a ditch in his bottom lip, and she stroked it delicately, words of sorrow frozen on her tongue.

_This is wrong,_ she thought weakly. That little thought hadn't stopped her before. However, her reasons were much thinner before. Before, this man was a stranger, and he was older. Her desire and bodily chemistry shredded those reservations. Now she knew the man her heart ached for, body throbbed for. He was undoubtedly the enemy, a man who had made his intention to _be her end_ very clear.

Perhaps she was just weak. Perhaps she had just ceased to care.

Korra's thumb slid inside Amon's mouth, and she trembled when she realized it was him who'd initiated the gesture by parting his lips more. Gently, he sucked on the pad of her finger, his tongue wrapping around it. Korra shivered, and longing swelled in her stomach as she shakily exhaled.

"Amon," she breathed, swallowing as she licked her lips. All she could hear was a ringing in her ears. She knew it was wrong, but she wanted _more…_

Amon suddenly relinquished her thumb and leaned back, his hand finding hers.

Korra's face fell when she saw that his eyes were filled with anger and doubt.

"You are not _just_ the Avatar… but you _are _the Avatar nevertheless," he said carefully. Korra looked away, face reddening as she felt the sting of dissatisfaction. He quickly grabbed her gently under the jaw and forced her eyes to meet his again. "You must understand that… I am different. Before I was not haunted by past and driven by my goals. There is no possibility of this ending well; me keeping you here any longer will only prolong our suffering.

"I cannot promise to spare you, Korra," Amon went on, Korra's heart bounding when she heard the sound of her name on his lips. "But I will free you _one last time."_

For a moment they just stared at one another. This moment, right now, Korra thought, was the limbo between Damen Shi and the real world.

_This is it._

"You're right," Korra agreed numbly, nodding. "You could still… reconsider the way you're going about this. You could stop taking people's bending and then…" Korra's eyes flashed down, glazing over. "Maybe we won't destroy each other."

"It isn't that simple; I cannot abandon my beliefs and all the people who depend on my guidance. Would you surrender your bending for me?"

"No," Korra said firmly. "It's part of who I am."

Amon traced his thumb on her palm, eyes softening. "Then you must understand my position."

"I do," She said solemnly.

Amon brought a hand to her neck, and Korra was unsure of what he was doing until she felt the clicking of some sort of lock. "Be still," he warned, his face contorting almost apologetically. Korra complied, teeth grinding together as the collar loosened.

"Gah!" she cried out as the needles tore from her skin, furious tears running down her face. Amon tersely apologized, wiping her blood away with the edge of his sleeve.

"You must have begun healing yourself," he reasoned, wincing.

"At least I won't be electrocuted any time soon." Korra tried to smile, but it was weak and fell off her lips as quickly as it came.

Amon slid the mask down his face and released an elongated sigh. "I will have you transported first thing tonight."

He stood, going toward the door of the cell. Korra froze, wanting to say something but not knowing what would be appropriate.

He seemed to find the most appropriate thing to say before she did. "Goodbye…Avatar."

Her reply hitched in her throat. By the time she found her breath, he was already gone.

******.**

**.**

* * *

**The next chapter will focus on Korra's return to normal, what she _wishes _was normal.  
**

***evil laugh*  
**

**Maybe a little more than sexual tension next time.  
**


	11. Part XI Confrontation

**_A/N:_ **Holy crap this one is long. It must be riddled with grammar errors so excuse those please. SMUT ALERT. *smiles deviously*

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**.**

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**-/ The Gateway Part XI /-**

******.**

**.**

Korra waited impatiently for nightfall, knees pulled into her chest as she stared blankly into the darkness. Although there were no indicators of time in her cell – su ch as a clock or even a window so she could check the amount of light in the sky – she could feel the night falling. The muscles in beneath the skin of her arms and legs rippled, chi flowing dully even though it was supposed to be blocked, as the rising moon strengthened her. It was one of the benefits of being of the Water Tribe: she drew her strength from the darkness and the moon. The intensity of the power even suggested it was a full moon - Korra wasn't sure though. She might have been feeling just a little too anxious to get out of the Equalist prison and as far away from Amon as possible.

She refused to let her mind rack with the painful thoughts of his goodbye. He had addressed her as 'Avatar' and it felt like a cold slap in the face. She resented being called that; her greatest insecurity was that people respected her, not because she was a decent human being but, because of her title. She supposed that insecurity came with the job - and it was increasingly starting to feel like one - but Korra couldn't help but let her mind wander.

She was so _lost_. As she quietly analyzed her childhood - not filled with friends and toys but with seclusion and near-constant training - the faith in her past seemed to stand shaky ground. And spirits forget her future; Korra had no clue how she was going to defeat a man that seemed to be two _very different _men: the one who terrified her and angered her because of his defiance and perversion of 'energybending,' and the man who tenderly told her that he cared not for the Avatar, but for _Korra. _And La, when he said her name it made her crumble.

Equally, when he differed back to merely calling her 'Avatar' she evaporated into nothing.

What if she weren't the Avatar? Like she had told Amon, she would have most likely lived and died a housewife. She wouldn't know Master Katara or Tenzin, she would have never met the only true friends her own age Mako and Bolin, and she wouldn't be _her._

An idealist part of her wondered what if... she had met Amon before he _became _Amon. The fantasy floated in her mind, fleeting and glowing, but she quickly pushed it away. Yes, Korra was being an idealist. She always had the insatiable desire to save everyone. But was that _her _or _the Avatar_...? Did that inept need stem from her personality or had her eleven years of training conditioned her into that mold?

Korra had very seldom been touched by self-doubt, that is until she came to Republic City and was confronted by the stark realization that she had _no _airbending skills. Yet, it had seemed that after a terrifying visit to the Spirit World and being held up in a prison with a psychotic Equalist who took pleasure in electrocuting her, she was able to generate some semblance of airbending. She wasn't sure about that. But the doubts, nevertheless, haunted her as she began to fall off her tower of confidence and realized that there was truly _more _to being the Avatar than merely fighting.

It took _instincts. _Aang had told her to follow them, as if she didn't already before. Did Korra ever listen to her instincts? Perhaps her rash actions, in the past, were not instinctual but impulsive. Challenging Amon before she barely had a grapple on what it took to _be the Avatar._ Like going to Damen Shi in the first place - yes, that was definitely stupid on her part. Slowly, she was beginning to accept that mistake in particular since it ultimately led to her contacting Aang and unlocking her airbending.

And she met Meng - well, _Amon._

What was the difference?

Korra slammed a fist into the wall behind her, yelling in frustration as she thrashed on the bed. Being imprisoned... it was like bottling her up and making a time bomb out of her. When were they going to let her go?

_I have to get out of here, _she thought, desolation getting the better of her as she climbed out of the bed and began to pace back and forth. Maybe she could teach herself to metalbend; yes, she recalled the story of how Toph Beifong did it - she was _imprisoned_. Korra approached the metal door of her cell and patted it. Testing it. She then fell into a horse stance, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as she took a deep breath.

Balance. Focus. _Strength_.

She let her muscles coil, building up the kinetic energy as she brought a fist backward. Chi pulsing from her stomach, she thrust her fist forward, her knuckles colliding with the metal...

"GAH!" she yelped, the distinct sound of bones cracking in her ears. Doubling over, Korra's hip slammed into the floor as she braced her bloody fist to her chest. Blood soaked into her blue shirt, probably staining it. Furious tears splurged from her eyes as she examined the damage. Yep, she had mangled her knuckles into a broken mess. They would heal fast, especially if she had some water to soak them in, but the pain was wrenching nonetheless.

So apparently Korra's chi was still blocked, or perhaps she just _couldn't _metalbend.

_You were being impulsive again, _she reminded herself, eyes fluttering shut as she cradled her mangled hand to her chest. Perhaps it was time to be patient, and wait for her opportunity to come.

******.**

**.**

Once Korra finally accepted that her escape wasn't eminent, she was able to drift off into a peacefully numb sleep. Her dreams were nonsensical, colorful, and best of all not filled with _him. _For the first time since she escaped the Spirit World, she felt a semblance of control, of inner balance.

The rattling of the cell door quickly awoke from her sleep, and she flew up defensively.

"Listen, Avatar," a familiar and mean voice rang sternly. "For some reason, Amon thinks that keeping you here will be troublesome. I trust his judgement, but I _don't_ trust you."

"What have I done to you?" Korra asked quietly, still caught in a dream-like state as she looked upon man, whose face was - as usual - partially concealed under a fabricated mask.

"It doesn't matter now, it's too late for you to change anything." Korra thought about empathizing, but knew it would have no affect on someone who already hated her so passionately.

Korra's eyes narrowed as he approached, and he pulled his kali sticks from behind his back. He flicked on their switches, causing their electrical currents to come to life.

"Ooohhh, no," Korra said firmly, taking a few steps back as her eyes widened. "You are _not _electrocuting me again."

"If you come without a fight, I won't have to."

stubbornness urged Korra to punch him in the face then and there, but the throbbing in her knuckles suggested that would be unhelpful.

"Fine," she muttered. The lieutenant tucked one of his rods away, keeping the other ready in his dominate hand. With his other, he pulled a rectangular piece of fabric from his belt and threw it at Korra.

"Put it on," he barked.

Korra moved to follow his order, but then quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"

"So you won't be leading the police here anytime soon," he murmured in disgust, as if his answer was obvious.

Korra rolled her eyes as she wrapped the blindfold around her head, tying it in the back. As soon as her arms dropped, she felt him roughly grab her by the bicep and drag her from the cell, then pushing her down whatever corridor they were on.

Soon, she felt herself being pushed into _something - _maybe the back of a satomobile. Fear flamed in her chest and she peeled off her blindfold only finding herself in darkness. She could feel the vibrations of a car's engine beneath her, and her suspicions were confirmed.

_Amon said he was letting you go, _she tried to comfort herself and failed. Feeling a pang of betrayal in the pit of her stomach, she began to doubt her instinct that he had told the truth. For him, the truth was whatever was convenient - whatever he could say to earn someones trust.

He had broken her trust in him.

She crawled into the corner, glaring into the void.

******.**

**.**

The next thing Korra knew, the truck squealed to a stop and the doors slung open. The reflection of tinted green goggles reflected in the moonlight, reminded her of her nightmares of the Equalists ambushing her. She rolled in the corner, but quickly felt the whipping of binds around her ankle as they drug her out.

The chi blockers tossed her to the ground, her head cracking against pavement and rocks beveling her cheek as she groaned. Then she heard the revving of the engine, and she was alone. Her thoughts were blurry, perhaps from the trauma to her head, and she tried to lift herself. She failed, crumbling back down. It seemed like they had dumped her in the middle of a street, dimly lit by lamps. But this place looked familiar, even in the darkness...

"_I heard something out here!" _a familiar voice called, and the sound of footsteps made Korra lift her eyes from the ground. "There's someone here - oh _Korra_!"

Looking up, Korra smiled with extraordinary relief. "Tenzin," she breathed, propping herself up on an elbow and reaching for him. He fell to his knees, capturing her in his embrace and cradled her limp and battered body.

"You...I thought you were _gone_," he whispered into her hair. Pulling apart, he brought his hands to her cheeks and examined her face. "What happened, Korra?"

The smile was wiped clean off her face, and she closed her eyes. She refused to answer

******.**

**.**

A few weeks passed, and Korra never fully divulged the details of her absence. Tenzin wasn't very adamant about knowing the details, either, as if he sensed the pain recollection caused.

"_I went to Damen Shi, and was almost killed by a spirit_," was the most she had told him about her presence in the Spirit World. "_Amon captured me and then let me go,_" was also the length she explained her preceeding imprisonment. It wasn't like he would understand all the details: how a man who called himself Meng - who was actually a amnesic Amon - swept her off her ignorant feet and helped her escape the sociopathic spirit called Jorn (who by the way, liked to dress up as Avatar Aang) and that once Meng/Amon and her escaped he immediately took her captive only to, _once again, _sweep her off her feet and then let her go.

No, that version was far too complicated.

Korra found herself quiet and secluded, meditating more often than not. She wished that meditating could ease her mind, but it mostly resulted in more pain as the memories flowed into her mind easier. She would be thinking of a white place, bland and boring, and then the silhouette of his mask would invade her thoughts. Seeing it, clear and vivid, should have scared her like it did before her adventure to Damen Shi - but it did not.

One day it was a little frigid and there was a light snow covering the floor of the meditation gazebo. The sun was about halfway up in the sky, a faint silhouette of a moon hanging just over the skyscrapers of Republic City. Korra, as she did around noon every day, slipped into her jacket and sat cross-legged on the floor. She pressed her fists together, letting her mind empty itself, filling with the whiteness.

Her eyes twitched beneath her lids as she visualized herself, walking the in field of nothingness. Enamored by the peace, her inner-self smiled as she burst into a sprint. Freedom, yes, this is what freedom felt like. Running towards absolutely nothing and away from nothing. She was in control.

Her mind slipped, as it usually did, and she felt a figure approaching from behind her. Korra's heart began to race as goosebumps crawled across her skin.

Her inner-self blanched, turning around with widened eyes.

It was him, and his mask, coming towards her in a slow haste that made her tongue go numb. She couldn't cry out to him, it was merely a meditory visualization, but met him in the center of whiteness.

No fear, but facination.

Korra's inner-self smiled and reached toward the mask. Her lips twitched outside her mind as well. When she visualized herself touching the mask, electricity shocked through her body. She wanted more.

She grasped him by his shoulders, and he didn't move. In a smooth motion, she stood up on her toes a kissed the lips of the mask, her tongue brushing across the divuts of its smirk. She hated that smirk, but she wanted the smirk to be for her.

She then imagined him pulling her close, egging her to continue stroking the mask with her tongue as if he could feel it. His fingers scraped over her scalp as he tugged her ponytail, yanking it and making her mewl against the cold porcelain...

Korra gasped and forced her eyes to open, abandoning the vision. Her whole body was shuddering, heat flushing through her body despite the cold temperature. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her lower stomach was burning with wanting. Quickly, she waved a hand and bended some snow from the ground, coated her hands with water, and then smacked herself across the face.

Her chin dripped with water as she tried to slow her breathing. Her own salty tears began to mix with the melted snow.

******.**

**.**

"Korra, are you alright?"

Korra leaning against the railing of the gazebo, staring over the hills of the island and off into Yue Bay. It was evening and the sweltering head in her body had never squelched. Her body felt like it was on fire.

She jumped at the sound of Tenzin's voice; he was hovering right behind her. She nodded noncommittal as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It's been a week, and you still haven't told me what happened," he said softly. "Perhaps it would help if you talked about it..."

Korra jerked away from him, narrowing her eyes. "No. It wouldn't." She was usually never so coarse... but she didn't want to talk to him.

With that, she trotted away, arms folded over her chest, and back toward the Air Temple. Tenzin ushered behind her. "Please, Korra, we're all so worried about you. Please at least tell me that... you weren't... _dishonored..."_

Korra stopped in her track, turning to face Tenzin. She pressed her lips together, trying to hold back a giddy laugh that was building in the her stomach. Was he asking if she had been _raped_? The idea was absurd...laughable..._horrible_... "No!"

Tenzin watched her with an odd expression, his eyes glinting with concern as her face contorted.

Korra suddenly felt her mind shift, her giggling morphing into an unsure laugh. Her cheeks reddened and swelled, eyes dampening. Her laughter changed to sobbing, and she threw herself into Tenzin's arms.

She sobbed into his chest, furious tears streaming down her face as shame consumed her. She had slept with Amon... the enemy...

And she fantasized about doing it again.

"In the spirit world," Korra began, sniffing. "I ... there was a man. A human."

He mumbled comfortingly, patting a hand on her back as he encased her in a fatherly embrace.

"I gave myself to him," she said, anticipating shame as Tenzin held her. To her surprise, he said nothing, which was almost worse. She gave in a little further. "I _love _him."

The atmosphere changed, as this was the first time since she was in the Spirit World that she let herself admit that solemn truth: even though she knew who he was - and that he wanted to destroy her - she couldn't help but still keep the fleeting and impulsive feelings toward him. Masochistic, that's what she was. To love a liar and your enemy... it was as if she were asking for this pain. It was actually quite ridiculous, she had considered in moments of rational thought, that she even fell for him in the first place. Though she was quite aware of the fact that when the Avatars fall... they fall fast and _hard. _Despite everything, Amon's little alter-ego had saved her multiple times.

"...and he didn't make it out...?" Tenzin murmured, breaking his thoughts.

Korra found it harder to speak. She had intended to be truthful, but feared the consequences of Tenzin knowing the whole truth. In a way, the man she loved did not leave the Spirit World. He stayed, keeping a piece of her with him.

It was easier to believe that little half-truth than to accept that everything was a lie.

"No, he didn't."

******.**

**.**

Tenzin was satisfied by her dishonest confession and let her go to bed without eating. Her stomach churned with grief; she almost _wished _Amon had stayed in the Spirit World. Almost. It sure would have made defeating the Equalists an easier task.

Korra crawled into bed, tucking herself fully clothed beneath her comforter. Naga lay beside her bed, already entering a slumbering state. Ever since_ that day_, Naga had been on edge and seldom left Korra's side due to fear of her disappearing again. Korra couldn't say she wasn't glad - her heart hand bounded with joy when Tenzin informed her that Naga came back to Republic City as soon as she disappeared.

Korra absent-mindedly ran her fingers through Naga's thick fur and smiled, trying to suppress the aching her chest.

If Amon hadn't left with her... Korra would have gone back for him. Without a doubt. Even with the knowledge of his identity, she would have gone back to that hellish place and brought him back to the mortal world. There was a twist of longing in her stomach, and her eyes fluttered shut. This time, she didn't try to hold back the floodgates pain, but embraced each memory as if they were her last.

His eyes, warm and protective, watching her like an eagle-hawk. Eventually the protectiveness faded, and he watched her more like a predator does their prey. Each movement toward her was like stalking, the space between them would fill with heat and tension that made her head spin. Korra's body warmed as she tried to imagine the musty, salty scent of his breath.

Oddly enough, she _could _smell it; she never knew her sensory memory was so sharp. Shuddering as she exhaled, a sly smile crossed her lip. If only she could feel his hands cascading down her stomach and further where the flames of arousal were beginning to flicker.

Korra jumped. Naga was suddenly barking, and Korra sat up out of her bed quickly.

_"Damn it." _A ragged whisper cut through the darkness and her window hung open, the dim light of evening casting a shadow. Korra rolled out of bed and hurled a fist toward the figure, who dodged it quickly and then caught her wrist. Korra cried out, but a hand quickly covered her mouth to muffle her yell. She bit the hand, and the masculine voice curse.

"_Fuck_. You _bit me_." Korra calmed herself down long enough to recognize the voice. Eyes widening, grabbed Naga by her harness and ushered her out of the room.

"It's okay, girl, just go," she whispered harshly, closing the door behind her polar bear dog and leaning against it.

_He _was there, lingering in her room, masked and everything, watching her. She couldn't see his eyes, but as he rubbed the hand she bit she knew his was angry.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, walking toward him a little. She kept an proper distance, in a feeble attempt to keep her excitement at bay. He was _here_. Her being startled and only suppressed the little fantasy her mind was conjuring a few moments earlier.

He didn't answer, instead he started a completely new subject. "The Avatar has been very inactive for the past few weeks, I have noted. I hope that has nothing to do with your captivity traumatizing you."

Korra's eyes narrowed, and she swallowed hard before snapping a response "What am I supposed to do, come hunting for you and your cronies every night?"

After a moment of silence, Amon tilted his head. "I was hoping you would," he said.

Korra's eyes widened in disbelief, hoping that she was just imagining the subliminal message in his words. "...so you can finally be rid of me?"

"Avatar, I _told_ you I was saving you for last," he said. Korra flinched at him, once again, calling him 'Avatar.'

Korra snorted. "You've said a lot of things."

His eyes narrowed at that. "I always keep my word."

Korra rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "You once told me you would _never _betray me."

Beneath the mask, his façade cracked. "...I thought we discussed this. Things have grown quite complicated."

"I _know_, but don't think I will ever believe a word you've ever said. Don't you _dare _think I'll ever trust you again," she spat. He stepped closer to her.

"Korra," he whispered. Korra's lip trembled as his heady scent grew stronger. "I let you go. I could have kept you imprisoned but... _I let you go. _Do you have any idea what position that put me in?"

Korra's eyebrows furrowed and she didn't respond.

"My hold and power has grown weaker over the weeks; they doubt me. They wonder why I let the Avatar go when our mission could have been easily accomplished with you... taken care of," he said, his firm voice faltering slightly.

"Then why did you set me free?" she asked weakly.

"Because I said I was saving you for last," he replied. He closed his eyes. "And because I wasn't ready to end you."

Korra shuddered, swallowing hard as she watched him. He seemed sincere, but she still frowned.

"Why are you here?" she growled, stepping closer to him so that she could glare into his crystal blue eyes. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

Like a snake striking, Amon's hand clasped around her jaw, squeezing her chin until she let out a soft whimper. He glared down at Korra, eyes leaking with uncertainty and anger - perhaps at himself. "I will never be ready to end you."

Korra couldn't breath, let alone reply. His words so rough, so desperate, so unlike the man she knew in the Spirit World _and_ the man called Amon. Perhaps he wasn't simple as she thought; there wasn't just black and white to his soul, but a million shades of gray in between. Korra longed to know every part of him, although she knew the consequence of such would probably be both of their ends.

She pictured a field of white consuming the space around her, and him being the only thing that she could see.

_Weak_. She had no self-control, and as she collapsed into his touch she knew all rational thought had left her then.

"Closure..." she whispered, her mouth feeling dry as her eyes flicked to his.

His mask nodded in agreement, and he leaned in to her. Korra felt a wave passion roll over her, and her softness capsized as she roughly grabbed him by the collar of his suit, pulling him down to her. He caught himself on her waist, crashing into her chest as Korra's lips buried in the hallow beneath his ear. Heart pounding in her ears, she gnawed at his soft, stubble-writhen skin until she heard him growl in disapproval.

Her hands scraped down his stomach, clawing through his layers, until her thumbs were tucked into the waistband of his pants. "How sorry are you?" she growled into his ear, nipping at his lobe as she took it roughly between her teeth. "Do you feel sorrow? Anguish? Do you know how much you've hurt me?"

She fumbled with the buckle of his pants until it clattered to the floor, and they were finally free to fall down - but she was waiting to make that motion. Korra tilted her head to the side, eyebrows pulling together into a grimace. "Do you know how much you've screwed with my head?"

Amon sneered and slid his hands down to her backside, squeezing her cheeks in rough fists. "You're the one that's been fucking with me," he rasped, lifting her feet from the ground a slight moment until she was shoved against the wall. The breath was knocked from Korra's lungs, and her lower region throbbed with a need like she had never felt before. Heat flushed through her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Desperately, he ground her into the wall, and she moaned into the base of his throat as the friction made her nerves go haywire.

Korra grabbed him roughly by the neck and tipped his head down to her, her nose becoming flush with his masks', their eyes meeting in a crazy haze of torturous need. She drew a hand across the porcelain cheek before pressing her lips against the smirk. Like in her daydream, lust seeped from her core as she intimately consumed the mask. Amon audibly groaned as her tongue dragged across the cheek, lips sucking at it as she softly mewled.

"Amon," she rasped, looking into his eyes again has her fingers twined themselves in his sideburns. "Are you still going to save me for last?"

He watched her for a moment, but then drove her against the wall again, fluidly ripping the mask from his face and tossing it across the floor. Heatedly he lips buried themselves in hers, the kiss becoming one struggling for dominance. _Nothing _like the way he kissed her in Damen Shi; it was tinged with confusion and hate, powered by lust that was beginning to consume them both. Korra could feel a bulge grinding between her legs as he pinned his fingers against her throat, tipping her chin up so his tongue could weave its way deeper into her mouth. They wrestled for control, and Korra found herself wanting to give in. _No, _something roared within her. One hand tangled in his hair, knotting in the strands, while the other traveled between their legs.

Snaking between his crotch, she squeezed his arousal and he hissed feebly into his mouth.

"Stop," he said weakly into her lips. Korra's plan worked, and his ministrations became softer and less intrusive, which gave her the perfect opportunity to attack his mouth. His tongue brushed against hers, and their movements were almost fluid and not like fire. She felt a taste of their first kiss, like two raging rivers meeting and becoming one and not an explosive and destructive competition for control.

The tenderness of it didn't last long; the heat between them was impossible to quench with simple kissing. Korra bit his lip, their noses brushing against each other, and she smiled. "Finish what you started."

She felt a low rumble in his chest as he clawed at her behind, sliding down her blue sweats and pushing them to her ankles. Simultaneously, she undid his pants, his swollen and hard member breaking out of its binds and brushing against her thigh. He shuddered as Korra rubbed against him, and she grinned with victory. In what seemed like a the time of a lightning strike, his erection slid between her folds, causing her to sharply inhale the heavy scent of arousal that hovered around them.

She muffled her approving mewls in the collar of his shirt, taking it roughly between her teeth as he rammed into her. She wove her arms around his waist, so that their clothed chests were flush and she could feel his fluttering heartbeat vibrating against her breasts. Releasing the fabric, she locked eyes with Amon. He wouldn't stop looking at her, as if the pure pleasure that strung across her face was enough to reach his release. His jaw locked in concentration, his eyes mirroring Korra's own anguish and longing as he bent his lips down to her.

Desperate, pleading; he didn't want this to end. Korra lifted herself using his shoulders to get a deeper angle. She tried _very _hard to sustain her moans, because any minute the other Air Acolytes would be returning to the dormitory and hear her shrieking pleasure. Amon only seemed to revel in her attempts, smiling mischievously against her lips as she hissed into his. He only made it worse by winding his hands beneath his shirt, squeezing her unwrapped breasts roughly until Korra groaned in satisfaction. Quickly, her heart began to thump faster in her chest as heat flushed from her nose to her toes. Amon's grunts became more labored as he filled her, pangning with a near-softness despite him roughly pinning her against the wall.

Korra slowly moved her parted lips over his own, down his cheek and carefully licking the savage scars that netted across them. He choked a moan, both intrigued by the sensitivity of his marred skin and amazed that she wasn't disgusted. He nodded in approval as her tongue tenderly traced the molten skin.

Something was breaking inside both of them, and their hasty movements were synchronizing and becoming increasingly desperate.

She nipped her way up to his ear, running her tongue across the lobe. "I'm so close," she whispered hazily between breaths.

With a few more thrusts, Amon snapped and buried himself in her as deep as he could go, biting into her neck to muffled his cries of pleasure. To make sure she didn't follow far behind, he brought a hand between her thighs and strummed the sensitive bud, and Korra shuddered with both surprise and pleasure as the motion sent her over the edge.

Korra dropped her feet to the ground as she rode out her waves of pleasure, digging her nails into his back as he pressed her head into his chest. Feeling weak, she pushed him towards the bed, knocking him down and collapsing over top of him. She curled into her chest, fleeting and on her high, and nearly forgot it was Amon. Just as she was about to pull away, knowing she was going to meet his cold face, she felt his hand snake around her neck.

A small gasp escaped her lips as she tried to interpret the gesture. His other hand rested on the small of her back. He was holding her; warm and protective, she felt his lips at the top of her hair.

"I'm sorry I've betrayed you Korra," he murmured in a uncharacteristic vulnerable voice. "I am truly sorry."

Korra lifted her head, resting her chin on his chest as she watched him. "I know."

He shook his head. "This has gone to far... I shouldn't have come." He lifted himself up on his elbows, in a motion to leave. Korra took both of her hands and shoved them into his shoulders, violently shaking her head in a firm _no._

"You're not going anywhere," she whispered harshly, narrowing her eyes. "Not yet."

Amon's eyes glazed over as Korra lifted herself up, straddling him. Slowly, she stroked a hand down his chest, making his eyebrows raise. Seductively, she undid his tunic in a devious slow motion until his chest was exposed and she was free to trace his muscled abdomen.

"One night with me, and you will never betray me again."

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**Okay, so this was my shot at hate/fuck and I believe I failed miserably. I'm just too fluffy. But that doesn't rule out rough sex o.0 *fist pump***


	12. Part XII Masks

**_A/N:_ **Warning: wear feel-screen while reading this chapter. Ugh. It's shorter but... condensed.

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**-/ The Gateway Part XII /-**

******.**

**.**

The night had begun with Korra's veins pulsing with a mixture of hate, sadness and betrayal.

However the moments following consumed both her and Amon as they frantically groped for a moment of stability that would never come. They were colliding at a force neither of them wanted to see; they blinded themselves to the inevitable so they could spend one last night -_ one last night_ - in each others arms.

The desperation never faded, but the insatiable need for control did eventually. As Korra straddled his waist, Amon gazed up at her with utter amazement. Even in the darkness, the sheen of sweat on her cheeks glistened as she stroked the planes of his chest.

_"One night with me, and you will never betray me again,"_ she said with the utter most confidence, her hips swaying as he rocked against her. His logic was blurred by his arousal, but he could still hear the truth and warning in his mind beating like a drum. He had made a promise, once, that was now impossible to keep. Korra was the last person in the world he wanted to betray, but the only one bound by duty and leadership he would _have_ to betray. Still, he neglected those thoughts and grabbed her thigh, fingers creeping toward her warm, hot center.

He touched her, and she quietly mewled at his fingers. Amon was enthralled by the sounds she made, by his doing, and only continued his ministrations as he pulled her down to him. A tender moment passed between them as he initiated a kiss. Bad choice. He needed to sever this connection, so that he could do what had to be done. But he couldn't stop - he couldn't let go. Every time their lips parted for breath, he thought he might have the strength, but Amon would fail and only kiss her again harder than before. Guilty, because part of him chastised the weakness all around.

He closed his eyes, surrendering to the sensation of her lips trailing across his jaw, her tongue brushing through the ditches of his molten skin. Though darkness didn't fill the space behind his lids; pleasure didn't consume him like he thought it would. Amon saw the flames of the past, mixed with the turbulent and freezing snow from a world so old it was nearly alien. Adrenalin shot through his veins as he heard the cruel words of a man with no conscience... felt the flames of a firebender who had no soul...

The fleeting moment ended abruptly as it began and Amon's snapped open.

"_Stop_," he demanded, his voice still rasping as he receded from the ocean of pleasure.

Korra shook her head, her lips still paying special attention to the scars which she had grown to love. Even though his hand dropped from her waist and he was rigid beneath her, Korra believed that a little more tongue might loosen him up...

"_NO_."

In a movement faster than the strike of lightning, hands were coiled around Korra's neck. She choked for a moment, confusion and fear making her heart race as she stared into Amon's blue, glazed-over eyes. His scowl deepened, his teeth feral and gritted as he threw her against the wall.

He wasn't looking at her, but through her, as his hands clenched tighter around her trachea. Her feet dangled and her fingers clawed at his muscled arms, lips parting in a plea but no sound emerging.

_Kick, scream - do something!_ Korra was frozen not only by fear, but by disbelief that the man who just held her...made love to her...

_He's still a monster._

In a moment of sudden clarity, Korra lifted her knee to her chest, and then thrust her leg forward in a strike of bubbling flames. Air shot through her lungs as she took a choking breath, and she quickly recovered and hurled another fist towards him.

"GET OUT!" she screamed, voice cracking as her eyes brimmed with tears._ Foolish. Stupid_. She could barely articulate the extent of her pain, in her thoughts, as her mind chanted all the violent acts she wished to inflict on his still-naked form.

Amon fumbled back, burned slightly by the flames. He hesitated, scowl erasing from his face.

"Leave!" Korra shrieked, the sound scratching through her lungs as it mixed with a sob. Her vision blurred and Korra knew that she was crying, but they were hardly tears of sadness. Anger, shame, and embarrassment that she pinned back in her idealist approach with Amon poured out as she continued to throw fiery punches in his direction. Not to hurt him, but to get him to _go_.

"- Korra - I -" he rasped, backing towards the window as he gathered his clothes. Korra refused to listen and thrust both of her arms forward in a pushing motion. Air pulsed from her fists and Amon rocked against the wall.

She didn't need to tell him again, as their eyes met in the hazy smoke of the room. Amon slid across the wall, fluid and ghostlike in his motions, and gripped the ledge of the window. In an instant, he swung out into the bushes.

Korra gathered a sheet and wrapped it around her body, and then paced toward the window. She grasped the sill, leaning out timidly into the dark of night.

Her door swung open, Tenzin bursting inside. "Korra! Are you alright?" Korra didn't turn around, but she nodded her head. He approached her, standing by her shoulder as he gazed out the window, silently wondering where Korra's eyes searched. "I heard you screaming."

Korra looked up at him with a blank expression, her eyes still red, and she wrapped the blanket around her tighter. "Just another nightmare."

******.**

**.**

Amon sat diligently at his desk, chin propped up on his intertwined fingers as he gazed forward. "Lieutenant," he began, his voice slightly sharpened. "I believe I instructed you to retrieve those reports on the Avatar?"

The lieutenant was slightly rigid before Amon, lip curled into a minuscule snarl that was only present for a fraction of a second. "You requested reports yesterday, also, which I did in fact obtain."

Amon's eyes narrowed and he let his hands fall down, clenching the edge of his desk. His temper had shortened in the past week, since... he let his train of thought cease and he cocked his head. "Don't speak so condescendingly towards me, when I have given you so much." Amon stood from his desk and paced around it, coming face to face with the lieutenant. "I ask you merely for the most recent intelligence on our greatest enemy, and you repay me with such arrogance. Pity."

"It's not arrogance," the lieutenant muttered reproachfully. "There is simply nothing new about the Avatar; nothing has developed in a period of twenty-four hours."

"I don't ask for_ new developments,_ I ask for manuscripts of her daily life." Amon turned towards his desk and flipped open a folder, eyes trailing down as he frowned. "'_Avatar refuses to eat meals with Councilman Tenzin's family,'_" he quoted, reading on. "_'She trains robotically; she has surrendered her pro-bending and refused to be apart of Councilman Tarrlok's task force. She only cares about mastering Airbending.'_ These are the things I want to know. Please enlighten our informants that the nature of my reports should be as detailed as this." He tossed the folder back on his desk and held his hands behind his back. "Understood?"

"Yes..." the lieutenant mumbled, peering at Amon's eyes through the slits of the mask. "I have never doubted you, Amon, but I feel I must come to you with concerns which span across the ranks." Amon noted that his lip twitched, yet again, a sign of concealed rage.

"Go on."

"Ever since the incident in Damen Shi...there have been concerns. With you and the Avatar," he began, his voice insecure as if he didn't want to believe what he was saying. "And then you ordered us to release her, when it would have been to our greater advantage to keep her until the time was right, like we had originally planned - "

"Plans change, Lieutenant," Amon snarled, his heart racing in his chest. He felt the anxiety falling on his chest.

"Yes, Amon," he agreed, face lifting. "But now you want to know every detail in her life, as if she weren't your adversary but the object of an...obsession."

Amon waited, pondering his words. "This is what my followers think of me?" he asked in an even tone.

"Some," the lieutenant replied shortly.

Anger flushed in Amon's words. "I do not see how my special attention to the Avatar's activities had interfered with our cause."

"What about the attack on the pro-bending arena? Why do you continue to postpone it; the championships have already passed and -"

"It wasn't the right time," Amon interjected hastily. He motioned for the lieutenant to continue. "Tell me, who has vocalized their opposition?"

Lieutenant visibly swallowed. "There is one particular mariner... the one who sailed you to Air Temple Island last week - "

"And? Get on with it," Amon snapped, his heart beating faster in his chest. The fear of exposure had never weighed on him so heavily, but it throbbed in his mind as he carefully listened.

"He expressed a concern that... your visit to the island was conjugal."

"Conjugal," Amon murmured thoughtfully, tilting his head. He had made a profession of being cool under fire. He looked back to the lieutenant with haze in his eyes. He severed his logic from his emotions, knowing that neither would survive if he couldn't explain himself. "It occurred to me, that defeating the Avatar would be larger feat than anticipated," he started, turning on a heel and pacing toward a bookshelf on the wall. He pretended to read the titles, facing away from the lieutenant. "Not only is the Avatar a powerful bender... but a woman."

"So it's true." Lieutenant's breath was barely a rasp, his fists clenching as he felt the sting of betrayal.

"Let me finish," Amon all but grit through a clenched jaw. He straightened himself once again. "She is a woman, a young woman. Lust is a powerful thing, and in the eyes of a teenager it can be confused with other affections. In other words, we have moved the conflict from between her and the Equalists, to within herself."

The lieutenant held his tongue. He was internally disgusted that he Amon would bed a bender, the Avatar no less, and even though Amon's story was convincing and sensical... it didn't sit right with him.

"So when will we launch our attack?"

Amon gave little thought to the manner in which he answered. "Whenever I feel it is time," he said, slightly noncommittal. The lieutenant heard the hesitation, but did not let his half-revealed face falter. He gave a slight bow instead.

"Of course. Amon."

"If that's all you may leave," Amon replied curtly as he sauntered back behind his desk. By the time he sat down in his leather desk chair, the lieutenant was gone, the door clicking behind him.

Amon exhaled a sigh of relief and wiped his face. His fingers flinched when they felt the cool porcelain - as if he was unaccustomed to feeling it when he went to touch his face. Though, by each day the mask was becoming more foreign. Less of an extension of himself, and more like, well, a mask.

He slowly peeled it away from his face, unbuckling it with rigid fingers. Amon held the mask in both his hands as he examined it. It was cold, hard, and anonymous just like Amon identified himself as. Or, at least he used to. Just like everything else, he doubted this persona he created. How much of it was like the mask, removable and fake, and how much of it was the mold of his soul? What his struggles and strife created?

Amon closed his eyes, imagining the cold snow of a blizzard washing against his face. So thick, any normal young man would have froze to death in minutes. For years, he had suppressed that memory and stored it away in his mind, proclaiming it a falsehood. He was Amon, not that broken child with no future. Not a man with no voice.

There used to be nothing more important than being Amon, being the Avatar's adversary and removing bending from the world. Nothing. It was perplexing... how in a matter of weeks his priorities shifted so immensely...

Amon scowled, a snarl erupting on his face and he launched the mask toward the wall. He didn't _want _to be Amon anymore, not like this. Not when his heart was divided. He was ill fit to be their leader...perhaps he could just slip into a crowd, a layer of makeup covering the majority of his scars.

Expecting to hear the shattering on porcelain as the mask collided with the metal wall of the chamber, Amon winced. Though, he did not hear shattering. Only two thumps: when the mask hit the wall, and then fell to the floor after.

Amon peered to the ground, breath catching in his throat. _Impossible_ - it was fully intact. He hadn't thrown it gently.

He took it as a sign: his façade was as easily shed as his mask was breakable.

Amon got up from his seat and retrieved his mask from the ground, buckling it to his face despite how much he didn't want to wear it. Besides, it was the only thing truly left in the world he had. An identity, even an evil, was better than being invisible.

******.**

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**I am slowly but surely bringing this story to a close. The angst is killing me. It hurt to write this chapter. I hope you enjoy my masochism :P**


	13. Part XIII Feeble

**_A/N: _**This one's a little longer, for reasons. There is also a little time skip from the last chapter. Let's say, like a week. And I'd also like to clarify a few key details in the duration of the fic. And some things that happened behind the scenes that I subtly spoke of.

_- This story is cannon up until episode 7. So let's say that Korra's adventure to Damen Shi took place between 6 and 7. _

_- Korra and Amon were only in the Spirit World for a matter of minutes human-world time. However, Korra had been missing the whole day and had Republic City & friends worried._

_- Amon canceled the attack on the probending arena due to his feels._

_- Korra quit the probending team because of her emotional trauma, forcing Mako and Bolin to forfeit their place in the championship._

_- Korra has devoted her life to airbending training._

/ok now read and review if you like (:

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**-/ The Gateway Part XIII /-**

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Korra's eyes opened and her balled fists launched forward.

Tenzin easily dodged the two blades of air, propelling himself upwards as his red cloak rippled in the wind. As he glided back down on funnel-like pillow, he snapped his arms from his chest, fluidly throwing balls of air towards Korra. She flicked her palms up at and created a shield of air, then proceeding to throw her leg into the air with a powerful air kick.

Her face was carved into a mask of concentration, never wavering even as a hint of pride swelled in her stomach. She had every right to be proud and perhaps brag on how, in a matter of weeks, she had excelled in her airbending. It was as if she never had never experienced her airbending block at all.

Still, she didn't let herself be proud for long. Korra merely tightened her lips and kept throwing attacks at her master.

Tenzin continued to dodge her, mainly going on the defense, but only sent relatively weak attacks toward her. In need of a challenge, some kind of danger to preoccupy her, Korra swiveled her hips and spiraled her arms. She was creating a twister of air.

Korra arched back her body, about to throw it towards him. "C'mon Tenzin! Stop being soft. I'm better than you think," she jared, continuing to spin her arms and making the funnel larger.

Tenzin's arms fell from his stance and he looked at her with a stern expression. "I am not being soft. I am attempting to demonstrate true airbending."

Korra's arms fell to her side and the funnel of air evaporated. Sh and she sneered. "What do you mean 'true airbending'?" she demanded, crossing her arms across her chest. "I've been working my ass off for weeks... for nothing?"

Tenzin's eyes widened at her sudden raised voice, and then shook his head. "No, Korra, but your style... it goes against what I've taught you. Remember the types of jing? Airbending requires the use of negative jing - the art of avoidance.

"You expect me to retreat? Do you think Amon will retreat?" she snapped sharply, the sound of her own words tearing at her heart more than she expected.

"This isn't about Amon, Korra," he said firmly, stepping closer to her. "This is about you mastering airbending - and you will never truly master the element of air until you accept that aggression will not solve every conflict."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not aggressive, I just don't see the point of dodging all the time when I can just attack."

Tenzin reddened at her apathy toward the matter, throwing out his arms in disbelief. "There doesn't _need_ to be a point! It is the tradition of the Air Nomads - every airbender has been trained as such! _You_, Avatar Korra, are no exception."

_Avatar Korra_. Her eyes fluttered shut, insecurity flooding her mind. She loved the title in the past, but now she carried it like a burden. She clenched her fists. "Well maybe I'm just not a good Avatar," she mumbled, eyes turning to the north. "You expect me to be like him." She could see the silhouette of Avatar Aang's statue through the haze of the bay, guarding the city. "Well I'm not."

"Korra..." Tenzin approached her and placed a hand on her should. "I don't expect you to be Aang. I never have," he spoke with the utmost sincerity. Korra looked up to him. "You are so different... it's hard to believe you carry his spirit." He put a finger to the center of her chest and smiled. "In you."

Korra tried to smile, but it faltered. "I feel like if I don't perfect this...if I'm not the strongest bender in the world... then I'll let the world down."

"Avatar Aang was an immensely powerful bender for his age. A prodigy, much like yourself," Tenzin explained. "But it was not his power that made him victorious, but the use of strategy, friendship, and spirituality."

"I..." Korra began, grimacing as she struggled for the right words to say. "I have never used strategy in my life. I'm not that spiritual. And Mako and Bolin..." she trailed off, sighing. "They haven't spoken to me. Or, I haven't spoken to them I should say."

Tenzin patted her on the shoulder. "Perhaps you will see them tonight." He gave a light smile.

Korra's eyebrows furrowed. "Are they coming?"

"I don't think they'd miss their friend's birthday celebration," Tenzin chuckled. "You only turn eighteen once."

Korra laughed sarcastically. "Well, technically, I've turned eighteen thousands of times."

******.**

**.**

"KORRAAAAAA!" Korra instinctively opened her arms when she heard the familiar cry of Bolin over the murmuring crowd, and gasped as he threw his arms around her.

"Bolin," she said with a smile, tightening her arms around him. "It feels like it's been forever."

"You know, only a week, three hours, and - " he peered up at the clock in the center of the banquet hall "forty-eight minutes?" He flashed a smile and released her. Mako appeared beside him, dressed in a suit similar to Bolin's and his hair gelled back.

He smiled at her timidly. "It has felt like a long time," he agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked down Korra. "And you look great, Korra."

She casually shrugged. "Only because of Pema," she explained, gesturing to herself. She wore a simple dark blue dress that synched just bellow the breasts, accentuating them, and then came just above the knee. It also had a split up the side, but it was only noticeable when she walked. Korra's hair also hung down in in one loose ponytail that flowed down her shoulder. "She bought the dress...did my hair..."

"Well you look just dandy, Korra," Bolin announced, nodding his head. "Like some Water Tribe princess."

Korra scoffed. "Well, I guess I'm princess tonight," she muttered with a frown. "I hate these big parties."

"Councilman Tarrlok was nice to throw this shindig in City Hall, like that one time before," Bolin pointed out innocently.

"That gala he threw in my honor was just a way to manipulate me into joining his stupid task force," Korra grumbled, crossing her arms. "I wouldn't be surprised if his agenda is the same for this party. The last thing I want is him trying to woo me back into the task force. I swear, if he does, I'm going to airbend him into Yue Bay." Korra exhaled and rubbed her face, looking between the brothers.

"Well," Bolin started timidly, twirling his thumbs. "So I guess we shouldn't bring up you rejoining the Fire Ferrets?"

"No, I'm not in the mood for a swim tonight," Mako added with a smirk.

She laughed and shook her head. "No, I won't airbend you guys," Korra assured them. "But I...can't do probending anymore. It interferes with my responsibilities."

"We understand," Mako said evenly. "Maybe when things cool down with Amon and the Equalists, you can rejoin. I think we might have chance to finally make it to the finals with you on the team."

Korra frowned at looked at Mako. "I'm sorry I bailed on you guys. These past several weeks have been...tough," she muttered.

"We know," Mako said softly, clearing his throat suddenly and looking at Bolin.

Bolin's eyes widened and he turned in the opposite direction. He pointed his finger toward the refreshment area and wiggled excitedly. "Chocolate fountain! Gotta go!" he said, taking off. Korra stared after him confused, before feeling Mako take her hand.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said softly, visibly gnawing on his lip. Korra's eyebrows knit together as she looked at him.

"About what?"

Instead of answering, he pulled her along through the hall, weaving through crowds of people she didn't even know, not caring that they tried to get her attention. She felt so grateful that Mako was rescuing her from the epitome of social awkwardness, and she gripped his hand tighter.

They found an empty corridor, only lit by a few candles and the natural moonlight cascading through the large bay window at the end of the hallway. Mako didn't let go over her hand, and that confused Korra. She looked up at him and had to blink to make sure what she was seeing wasn't some sort of hallucination. His head was cocked, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked suspiciously. His expression immediately became amused.

"Like what?"

"Like..." she murmured, twisting her lips. "Like I just told a naughty joke?" she blurted, immediately blushing.

He snorted, shaking his head. "I... you just look really beautiful, Korra."

Korra suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and she took a small step back. He still wasn't letting go of her hand. "Okay...?"

Mako sighed shakily. "I don't know how to say this," he started. "When you went missing, I thought I would never see you again. That terrified me... a lot. You are unlike anyone I've ever met."

Korra stared down at their intertwined hands, as his fingers knit between hers and he squeezed. "Mako..."

"I realized... I like you," he stammered, closing his eyes. "I _love_ you."

Korra's eyes widened and she yanked her hand from his as if she had been burned. "What?" she whispered.

Mako shook his head and then dove towards Korra. Their lips smashed together, and Korra squealed against him as he moved his lips against hers. His arms wound around her waist and he pulled her closer. Korra was frozen, numb, and honestly was unsure if she was even thinking straight. His lips were warm and soothing, but it occurred to her that they were the wrong lips. For a short moment, she let herself relax, clinging to ancient emotions and timidly kissing him back.

_No, _a voice screamed within her, _this is wrong. _Kissing Mako was nothing like the first time, despite the similar circumstances. Her heart fell into her stomach as she winced, putting her hands against his shoulders and forcing him away. Mako stumbled back, a confused expression written across his usually blank face.

Korra wiped her wet lips with her wrist and shook her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered, looking back up at him.

Mako's lips tightened and he closed his eyes. "I am too late."

Korra exhaled shakily, feeling the damp tears filling her eyes. "Yes." Without even thinking, she ran down the corridor and away from him, wanting to get as far as possible from Mako before she began to sob. She found an empty office and flipped on the light, closing the door behind her and sliding to the floor.

Mako _loved _her! How could she not feel the same way? It seemed like years ago... but it was only weeks since she was with the aloof firebender. He was attractive, compassionate... but he wasn't Amon.

Her sobs became more choked as the floodgates opened, and Korra wrapped her hands around her neck. She mimicked the sensation of Amon's hands wrapping around her throat, the betrayal and confusion overwhelming her again. What had she done to trigger his hysterics? His anger? She'd never seen him so angry...

Korra furiously wiped away her tears and forced back her cries. It didn't matter anymore. He'd made it clear that he was Amon, the leader of the Equalists and her mortal enemy. Clinging to little, obnoxiously heart-wrenching questions like that wouldn't do her any good.

She lifted herself from the ground, sniffling as she turned around. The door was standing wide open, and a dark silhouette stood in the doorway. Korra felt another cry bubbling in her throat. "Mako, I need to be alone - I can't -"

The light illuminated the figure. It wasn't Mako. It was _him - _no mask, no metallic suit.

"Amon?" she breathed, trying to gain some semblance of strength and composure. He sauntered through the door, shutting it behind him and his eyes never breaking from Korra. She narrowed her eyes. "Where's your outfit? Your mask?" She noticed his outfit was oddly Water Tribe, a shade of blue like hers trimmed in white.

"I desired to blend in," he said curtly. "I do not think the leader of the Equalists would be welcome at the Avatar's... birthday party." His voice was empty of emotion, but chuckled at those last words as if he found it amusing the Avatar would have a birthday at all.

"You aren't," Korra growled.

Amon ignored the answer and took a step closer to her. "I find it odd that you've banished yourself from the party. Do you think the guests will worry?"

"It's my party, and I can choose to banish myself if I want," she countered indignantly, propping a hand on her hip. "And they shouldn't worry about me. I'm the Avatar."

He nodded. "That you are." He took another step closer to her, but his eyes dropped down her body. "You look ravishing in that dress."

Korra gasped, déjà vu making her body feel heavy and she closed her eyes.

_"You look ravishing in that dress." Korra almost let the cup run-over as astonishment pierced her emotionless façade. Her eyes widened slightly - she was sure that was his voice._

_"Meng," she breathed quietly._

She nearly fell over as the blood rushed to her brain, disrupting her equilibrium, but she immediately felt a hand on her arm before she completely toppled. She frowned and pulled away from Me - _Amon_ - and hissed. "Don't touch me. Ever."

Amon's expression faltered and he obeyed. He remained silent, eyes still locked on Korra.

"What do you want today? Have you decided that ending me cannot wait?" she asked, voice dropping into a deeper register as she watched his expression. His lower lip twitched, and her eyes widened. Had she guessed his intentions correctly?

She instinctively fell into a fight stance and curled her lip. "You're here to take my bending," she accused, narrowing her eyes. "Not gonna happen."

He mirrored her, holding his lithe hands in front of his chest. Then he smiled smugly. "You will, of course, have the opportunity to fight for your bending," he informed her, chuckling lightly. "Though your skills are of little consequence, Avatar."

"'Little consequence'?" Korra laughed, smiling smugly. She brought back a fist. "You haven't seen my airbending."

He raised a brow. "Do you truly believe you can defeat me?"

"Do you?"

Amon's smile fell. Korra had captured his attention. She knew that her feelings, powerful and shameful, would weaken her. She could wear a good game-face, but when it came to fighting him... she would never be able to truly hurt him. As much as she wanted to, as much as doing so was her obligation as Avatar... she just couldn't. Perhaps he bared the same feelings, even if they were minuscule compared to hers. It was hard to read him, but Korra knew she hit a nerve and continued on. "Before you said you couldn't end me," she said in a whisper. Her arms dropped to hers sides and she edged closer to him. He didn't lose his rigidness.

Korra's heart pounded as she was only a stride from him. Any moment he could turn and subdue her then and there. But he didn't - he stood defensively, jaw locking as he closely watched her.

Korra was very hesitant as she raised her hands, palms facing towards him as she conveyed her movement were innocent. Her pulse throbbed in her ears as she clasped her fingers around his wrists. Eyes never leaving his, she forced his arms down and nearly started crying when he weakly let them fall.

"I am weak," he said dully, grinding his jaw as he stepped closer to Korra. He closed his eyes. "You have ruined me. You have ruined _Everything_."

Korra pursed her lips. "This isn't easy for me either," she whispered, sliding her hands up his wrists until they were palm to palm. "You've ruined me too."

Slowly, their fingers began to lace together, the warmness of their hands passing between them. It always seemed to happen like this - a moment of weakness would destroy every wall that held them apart like they were made of thin ice.

Korra pulled their intertwined fingers to her face, twisting his hand so that his knuckles would press to her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as her mouth opened for his skin.

She heard him sigh at the touch, and lifted her eyes to his. "Do you want me to stop?" she murmured quietly, watching him carefully. Before she had forced herself upon him, and she wanted to hear him say he wanted her.

He hesitated, lips parting before he finally shook his head vigorously. "No."

She smiled against his hand, shielding her face from his eyes. "Amon..." she sighed against him, brushing his hand against her cheek, goosebumps rising at the touch. His other hand rose to cup the nape of her neck.

"That's not my name."

Korra's eyes widened and she pulled his hand from her face. "What?"

He tipped his chin forward, lips pulling taught. "Amon... is but a pseudonym. An identity that... I created. I became."

Korra could hardly fathom that his name wasn't Meng, but now... he wasn't Amon either. She shook her head. "Who _are _you?" she demanded sharply.

"Does it matter what my name is?" he said firmly, reaching toward again. He planted a hand on her hip. "It doesn't change anything."

"It does," Korra said. "I want to know you. All of you."

He sighed, nodding his head slightly. "You know more of me than anyone... I've ever met."

Korra slid towards him fluidly and threw her arms around his abdomen, extending her toes so her lips could reach his. Her stomach fluttered as his lips melted against hers, moving with an equal ferocity as her own. His hands slid up her hips, sweeping her back as he pulled her tighter against his chest. There were so many things that their lips conveyed in the tender kiss. Their bodes swung as they maneuvered across the office, toward the desk in the center. Never breaking from Korra's lips, Amon reached over and swept the stacks of papers off, proceeding to lift Korra onto the edge.

His lips moved across her cheek, then going bellow the hallow of her throat. Korra gasped as his hands snaked under her dress, sliding up the hem so he could grip her thighs. She knotted a hand in his hair and cradled his neck with the other. "Slow," she whispered into the soundless void. "Make love to me."

At her words, Amon's kisses suddenly ceased, his head rising. He looked in her eyes and leaned in to kiss her again. Slow, sensuous, chaste. Korra didn't have to guess what he was saying. His eyebrows furrowed in a way that was so familiar, carved into her memory. She hadn't expected him to say anything, but when he did, her heart fell into her stomach.

"I must have loved you, in another life," he murmured under his breath. "You see through my pretenses, and I let you tear them apart. The only explanation I have is that I love you. I will always love you." His jaw locked and he looked away.

With a trembling hand Korra touched his cheek, prompting his eyes to return to hers. "In this life... our odds aren't good," she rasped. "But it doesn't matter. Any form, any name, I will love you." Her words were powerfully firm, etched like a promise on her tongue.

Amon's eyes shut and he swallowed. "My true name- "

His sentence was cut short when the entire building shuddered, rocking the desk. Korra nearly tumbled off it, but Amon caught her by the waist and pulled her into his chest as the ceiling above them rippled. Once the shuddering ceased, the sounds of blood-curdling screams echoed through the building, even reaching the far-away room of the office they were in. Korra pushed away from Amon, taking off out the door and through the hallway, the smell of smoke filling her lungs.

When they reached the main banquet area, there appeared to be a gaping hole in the ceiling. The haze of the debris and smoke didn't reveal what made the hole. Korra looked over her shoulder; Amon was right behind her. "What's going on?"

Amon's eyebrows furrowed - he wasn't looking at her, but over her shoulder. His lips parted and she could tell her was shocked. She followed his eyes, dropping on an airship marked with the symbol of the Equalists.

Korra snapped back to him. "You -" she muttered, anger flaring in her chest. "I - I can't believe I fell for this. Again!" She screamed, her fist clenching.

"Korra, I didn't know about this," he said evenly, enunciating every syllable for emphasis. He gripped her by her arms tightly and looked directly into her eyes. "I'm not responsible. I meant everything I said. I don't know what's going on," he stammered, looking up. "They betrayed me."

Korra eyed him suspiciously. "If you are telling the truth, help me," she told him. "Help the benders."

He sustained the silence between them for a moment before bowing his head. "I will."

She nodded and turned, looking out over the balcony, searching for the sources of the screaming. Through the hole in the ceiling, rain showered through city hall. Korra used her natural element to creating a bridge from the upper level of the banquet hall to the lower, grabbing Amon by his arm and pulling her with him as they slid downwards on the ice.

"Help them," Korra instructed pointing a finger on one side of the crashed air-ship, her eyes widening as she saw figures moving through the dusty haze. An Equalist burst through the debris, launching a cable toward Amon's feet. "No!"

Amon swiftly jumped in the air, dodging the attack and then diving through the other blows until he was close enough to block the Equalist's chi, numbing them into a heap on the ground. Korra was fascinated, seeing him move like that for the first time without being struck by fear. She was in awe.

He turned back to face her, throwing out an arm. "Behind you!"

Before Korra could flinch, the metal cables coiled around her knees, knocking her off balance and causing her to tumble into the ground. The wind was knocked out of her, but that was not the first blow. Electric volts shot through the cables and through the fabric of Korra's pants, shocking her entire body. Her muscles spasming once the initial electrocution subsided, she opened her eyes to see Amon moving towards her. Her vision was blurry, but she knew it was him when he bent down and began to untie the cables.

"Are you alright?" he asked lowly. Korra nodded dully, smiling lazily when Amon's hand cupped her cheek. "City hall is swarming with chi-blockers."

"Tell dem..stop..." Korra mumbled with her numb tongue.

"If they had any intention of listening to me, they would not be attacking in the first place." He looked up quickly, snarling as he threw up a hand. Dazed, Korra swore she saw his hand spiral, redirecting the rain into a stream of water toward the Equalist assailant.

Korra tried to sit up, scooting in his lap. "Waterbender?" she mumbled incredulously.

Amon looked down, not responding. "They have come for you. I have to get you out of here."

"The others?" Korra managed, rising to her feet unsteadily. "There must be hundreds of benders and nonbenders here. I can't leave them!"

"But Korra, without me they won't be taking the bending away," he said carefully.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

Amon pulled his lips in. "My method is - was - the _peaceful_ solution."

Clarity pooling in Korra's eyes, she exhaled sharply. "No," she whispered. "They will kill the benders."

Amon nodded curtly. "Yes, and they will kill _you_ the first chance they get. You cannot die."

"When will you learn that I, too, am just one person?" Korra said, softer than intended. "I'm not afraid of the consequences, when it comes to the people I care about."

"I know you aren't selfish," he replied under his breath, leaning into her closer. "I am the selfish one." Korra moved her body into him, thinking he was going to kiss her, but she paused when she saw his expression shift into grimace. His arms snapped, pointed fingers snapping along the chi paths in her abdomen and numbing her body. She could still see him, unable to say a word. He pressed a finger to the point on her neck - the one that always sent her into unconsciousness - and Amon closed his eyes. "As long as I live, you will never be a martyr."

He struck Korra, sending into the dark abyss of her mind.

**.**

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**I had to split this up. The next chapter will take place exactly after this scene. No time skip.  
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**And a note: I might be going back and fixing older chapters. Just ignore the update alerts because it might be another week before I have a new chapter.  
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	14. Part XIV Reconciliation

**_A/N:_ **Three words about this one: You'll need therapy.

Since I haven't already, I am going to go ahead and do a big long reader-appreciation post. I read every single review - they make my dad. Truthfully, if I had the time, I would personally reply to every single one. I really would. I love hearing feedback, here and on tumblr, and hearing that you are enjoying what I write. I LOVE YOU. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU.

Expect chapter 15 next Friday (7th)! :) Or the 8th. Depending.

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**-/ The Gateway Part XIV /-**

******.**

**.**

_"As long as I live, you will never be a martyr."_

Amon closed his eyes when he delivered the blow to the sensitive point on her neck, knowing that this time he would feel entirely to guilty to watch the pain strike across her face. The soft grunt of the impact echoed in his ears; Korra's body went limp and fell to the side, where Amon quickly caught her in the crooks of his elbows.

Her face was relaxed, soft and unknowing. Amon grit his teeth as he adjusted Korra in his arms. Amon pulled her up, placing a slow lingering kiss on her forehead. A sense of dread stirred within him, which is why he let his lips trail down to her lips for the quickest moment. He didn't know who might be watching them.

Amon had always been a realist – not a pessimist, but a realist – and had strong instincts. As a leader of the Equalists, Amon used his instincts to decide when to strike. In a sense, it did indeed feel like the spirits were on his side, guiding him to cleanse the world. In hindsight, it had been foolish to think the spirits would favor a man over the Avatar.

For the slightest moment, Amon forgot that it was the Avatar he held in his hands. This scared him, in some ways, and had ever since their return from the Spirit World. Each time that he began to think of Korra and 'The Avatar' as too complete separate entities, Amon knew that he was in serious danger of losing himself. At this point, he knew he already had. Despite his hatred for bending, benders, and the Avatar, he was now a sympathizer of all three.

The crunching of metal reverberated around them, the ground vibrating beneath hem. Amon pulled Korra protectively into his chest as he tipped his head in the air. The air ship that crashed through the dome ceiling of City Hall shifted above them, roof debris crumbling around them in a brown dusty cloud. Amon pulled the collar of his shirt around his face, and then tore a piece of his shirt off to wrap around hers so neither of them inhaled the rubble.

The floating debris was the least of their problems. The air ship hadn't finished its dissension; the groaning of the metal indicated that it was shifting and about to crush all of them. Amon quickly surveyed his surroundings: men and women scampered from the banquet hall some still injured by the fallen chunks of ceiling. Amon stood, lifting Korra over his shoulder.

"Hey! You! _Put her down_!" Amon jerked around, balancing Korra on the pad of his shoulder with an annoyed expression.

He caught sight of the one firebender boy and his earthbender brother, who seemed horribly pale as he limped alongside his brother, blood soaking his dark green dress pants.

Mako was half-carrying his brother at this point, and gently set him down before marching over to Amon with a fireball on his fist. "What are you doing with Korra?"

Amon narrowed his eyes, shifting Korra on his shoulder as he fully faced the firebender.

"I am saving her – or have you not noticed that this place is near the point of collapse?" he retorted, hoping that Mako didn't recognize the deep timbre of his voice, even though it cracked with desperation.

The firebender definitely was struck by suspicion, but lowered his flaming hand. "Who _are _you?" Mako demanded.

Amon's eyes widened in disbelief. "In a matter of seconds that five-ton air ship could shift in the slightest, fall, and crush anyone in this hall and you are concerned about _my _identity?" he said evenly.

"How do I know you're not one of _them_? There are Equalists everywhere! Not just chiblockers – they're everywhere," Mako replied in a choked voice. His expression was painted with betrayal.

Of course, there were many citizens of high society which were members of the Equalists, among them being Hiroshi Sato himself. His traitorous subordinates could have just as well conspired to undermine Amon along with _them –_ with Sato.

"I can assure you that I have Avatar Korra's best interest at heart," he said. "And right now, getting out of here is in her best interest."

"Then give her to me," Mako said in an even tone. Amon's eyebrows pulled together and he glanced over his shoulder. While his priority at the moment was getting Korra the hell out of City Hall, he also felt a burning in his chest. The sensation was similar to one he'd felt for years.

Amon thirsted for revenge.

He looked back to the firebender with a conflicted expression. "If you can carry her, then carry her," Amon said as he slid her off his shoulder; he balanced her in his arms as he glared at the _boy _who stood before him. "The price of failing to protect her will be far too high for you to pay, firebender," he warned in a low, unwavering voice. He knew without a doubt that his voice dropped into the vocal register he used on the radio broadcasts. If Mako hadn't recognized him already, he surely would now.

Mako, however, remained quiet as he took a step forward.

"You don't have to tell me."

Amon tilted his head forward, a mutual understanding crossing between them. Amon lowered Korra into his arms and turned his head toward the ceiling, his vision emblazoned with the image of the Equalist symbol engraved into the ton of metal that threatened to crust them.

"Go," he commanded the firebender, who obeyed and helped his brother up with a free arm.

**.**

**.**

Amon unbuttoned the light blue jacked of his formal outfit, one he'd worn in order to blend in as a water tribesman rather than stick out as the scarred nonbender he usually pretended to be. The event was mostly going to consist of benders, so it only made sense to seem affiliated with a sect. Amon counted on the ignorance of the average high class citizen to make such assumptions, for he knew it was only in human nature.

Amon didn't consider himself as a bender, because he always refrained from using his abilities except to take bending away. Which brought him to the origin of his presence that night: he had fully intended to end the Avatar for good.

The ranks were clearly beginning to question him, after releasing the Avatar. And eventually Amon began to wonder if his lieutenant spread the rumor of his sexual relationship with her. He thought he'd conjured up a brilliant explanation - cruel in nature, but brilliant when it came to covering his ass - and assumed that the lieutenant had bought the story. Even behind a mask, Amon wasn't as guarded as he originally thought. Perhaps he wore his disgustingly uncharacteristic feelings for Korra on his sleeve, rather than deep within his chest where that gnawed at him.

The night was meant to end with him being cold as ever - instead everything shattered. Self-deception was futile in the face of a force more powerful than revenge or love. Amon wasn't even sure if it was love he felt for Korra, but some mysterious tie through space and time which bound them on a path. Whether this path was paved with happiness or not was yet to be seen; clearly, the universe wasn't working in their favor. If, in this life, they were meant to be, he would have been born a few decades later. He wouldn't be Yakone's son. He wouldn't be Amon.

But he was Amon, even though that wasn't the name his mother gave him, that's who he had been for the better part of his life. That other boy, the one who nearly died in the bitter snow and cold, was so far removed from the man he had become.

Once he shed the suit jacket he unbuttoned the collar of his shirt and then rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves up his elbows. He forced himself to exhale the breath he'd been holding, silencing the thoughts in his mind as he listened to the crumbling world around him.

Crackling of fire from the initial explosion of the air ship, coupled with screaming, filled Amon's ears as he looked around. Through the brown smoke he saw a spot of blue on the ground- light blue, not unlike his own pants. He squinted and strode over.

As he suspected, the blue belonged to a pair of legs – the body on the ground was half-concealed by the rubble. He heard a faint groaning; a heavy weight fell in his chest as he bent down. Blood seeped into the blue fabric and flooded the floor. Amon closed his eyes, knowing that at this rate man would be dead soon enough.

But the death would be painful.

The first time Amon had been taught to bloodbend was under the guise of expiditing the death of a lionseal on a hunting trip. The first thing he ever learned was how to kill an animal in a second, by merely tearing the ventricles of the brain and heart simultaneously. He swore never to do this to a human, but if the man was suffering… it was his responsibility to _end_ the suffering.

For once, he didn't want to hesiitate to use his bending.

Amon first began to clear the rubble around the man, lifting broken chunks of marble from his chest and swiped the dust from around his face. Amon could barely see, but something panged in his chest as he squinted at the man's face.

_No_.

Amon's eyes trailed down the body, dropping on the bloodstained suit – light shades of blue, with frills of white going up the dusty collar. Amon placed his hands on the man's chest, feeling the faint heartbeat beneath his hands. _Faint_.

His clothes were clearly Watertribe.

Amon wasn't sure at what point he began holding his breath, but at the spark of his realization a choked gasp escaped his cracked lips. His hands trembled against the bloody shirt – it was _bloody! _Amon lifted his hands and found them with a light layer of dark red. He quickly wiped the blood on the thighs of his pants, nearly frantic, as he tried to hold back the tremors in his limbs.

Amon's eyes snapped back to the man's face. He was certain, without a doubt, even though the face was nearly unrecognizable beyond the shredded skin and brown dust caked into the blood, that it was his brother that was dying before him.

Disgust consumed him; only moments ago Amon had contemplated robbing the life of his own brother. _His own brother._

_**.**_

_**.**_

"That felt awful! I never want to bloodbend again!"

_**.**_

_**.**_

Amon had little emotional range. He felt anger, pride, and even some shades of happiness when he was with Korra. But fear and sadness were unacceptable emotions, or at least he always thought so. Fear was weak. He always redirected his remorse into rage and resentment. Amon balled his fist and bit down hard on his lip as his whole life seemed to betray him.

Just as he, so long ago, betrayed Tarrlok.

His hands were evil, and had done evil things to the boy he loved so long ago._ Still loved,_ he thought regretfully as he hunched over the ragged body. Barely alive.

So this is what most of his followers felt like – losing the ones they love at the hands of a dangerous opposition. Whether they were targeted or merely caught in the crossfire, Amon always rallied their losses—erecting a pillar of hate among the nonbenders of Republic City.

Amon's eyes glazed over as self-loathing thoughts coursed over him. Bringing a face to his hand, he felt the scars and the flicking flames that tore through his skin so many years ago. He thought he knew what loss felt like, the loss of his face, and thought he was justified in concocting a more empathic story for his followers. How wrong had he been?

Amon blinked a few times, as if trying to wake up from a dream. Confronted with flickers of humanity he had buried so long ago, he felt a metamorphosis. A crisis of identity. Behind of the why, he felt the how echoing in his mind.

_Who am I?_

Was Amon the omniscient leader, a brilliant conversationalist and strategist? A god among his people – or, at least at one time – and the most terrifying opposition Republic had ever seen? Amon grit his teeth. Suddenly the image his mind was eerily identical to the one man he never wanted to be.

A harrowing scream escaped his lips, shockingly shaky and course as it scraped up his dry throat. The scream faded into a choke, a half-sob, as his body fell over Tarrlok's arms clinging to his shoulders.

"Tarrlok," Amon said, lifting his head slightly to look at his brother's face. His stomach was strong, but was weak when he looked at Tarrlok's face again. Blood dripped down his chin like molasses, a red substance that seemed too thick to be blood. Strange, how many times he'd seen beings – human and animal alike – so close to death but the eerie seeping of blood never seemed so real.

Tarrlok's lids began to flicker open. Amon jerked forward, almost grabbing Tarrlok's face before realizing that would probably hurt him.

He found himself staring into a pair of terrified blue eyes.

**.**

**.**

_Yakone crossed his arms, eyes tinted with faint paranoia flashing between his two sons._

_They both knew what was coming, of course they did. Each hunting trip brought them one step closer to this moment._

_Tarrlok stared at his brother expectantly. Like an animal that has been scolded, anticipating the next strike of its owners hand. Of course, the elder brother never acted like Tarrlok's owner. In fact, if anything, they were both Yakone's pets._

_It twisted his heart to see his younger brother gaze at him, eyes so pleading and afraid.  
Though that terror was nothing compared to the next._

_Tarrlok's body jerked in the air, muscles contracting by force as his elder brother squinted in the swirling snow and darkness. He quickly crumbled. Tarrlok wasn't strong enough to withstand the strings that tugged at ever fiber of his being,_

_And then the brothers' eyes met. Noatak knew his destiny then._

**.**

**.**

"_Fa –_ " Amon was surprised to hear Tarrlok speaking, although he was weak, and clung to every breath he took.

"Tarrlok?" Amon rasped, pressing a hand into his shoulder. Tarrlok groaned beneath him.

"Father?"

Amon closed his eyes, as his worst fears were confirmed. Seldom had he seen his own face, but when he noticed the remarkable similarities between him and Yakone. A strong jaw and fierce blue eyes. Their mother always told them that Tarrlok took more after her, while he took after the man he abhorred.

"No," Amon said softly, shaking his head slowly. He brought a shaking hand to Tarrlok's faced and brushed out some of the bloody strands from his face. "It's me brother."

Tarrlok's widened and he began to fidget on the ground, hissing through clenched teeth as he did.

"Don't move," Amon commanded, reverting back to the political voice he used with his subordinates. Tarrlok began to move away from him more.

"A-a-mon?" he gurgled, coughing weakly as blood spurted from his mouth. Amon shook his head.

_Lie._

"No," he said gently. "It's Noatak."

Tarrlok's eyes relaxed, as did his body. "Noatak," he repeated affectionately. "You c-came back t-to me."

Amon cradled the back of Tarrlok's head and nodded. "Yes. Together again."

Tarrlok smiled, the creases of his lips barely lifting, before his eyes rolled back in his head.

Amon swallowed as Tarrlok seized bellow him. "No," he whispered. "No!" He lifted a hand through the air and summoned a stream of rain into his hand. Even though he'd sworn of bending, considered the slightest forms the bane of humanity, he never forgot his motions. He never became rusty. _Everything_ was ingrained in his mind.

There was one thing he never mastered – healing. He was born with the ability, but it went largely ignored most of his youth. Yakone never saw any reason for his bloodbending prodigy to learn things trivial as healing.

And of course Amon never bothered to learn, because he thought – as jaded as he was – all bending was evil.

Still, he tried. He really tried. Like the way his mother did, he wrapped the water around his fingers. Impatiently, he waited for the white blue glow.

The glow began, but not as he expected. It was glowing a deep shade of red. His hands felt like they were on fire, burning spreading up his arms as the water did as well. One word stood out in his mind: _tainted_.

Not bending in general, but his own. His chi darkened by years of hatred and revenge. Anger burned in him, crawling through his stomach and through is throat in the form of a solemn cry. Tears filled his eyes and flushed down his cheeks each time he blinked.

He plead for the water to work, to heal, but it continued to drain every ounce of energy he poured in. The water faded from red to black, seeping into his skin like a poison. Or perhaps he was reabsorbing the own poison within him.

He was unsure of the length of time that passed before Amon realized he was only hurting himself, and relinquished the water.

But only for a moment.

Amon threw his arms up in the air, frustration consuming his mind as he unintentionally paused the rain in its downward fall around them. A sphere formed, crystal-like, enclosing them from the world that crumbled around them. It also made it vividly clear that Amon's world was crumbling within their little sphere as well.

Arms numbly hanging in his hair, Amon clenched his fingers into a fist. Healing wasn't working. He was never good at healing.

But he could bloodbend.

He dropped his arms, the sphere of water sloshing outward in a dangerous tidal wave. Panting from the exertion, Amon touched Tarrlok's chest. His heart was barely beating. He had never attempted to heal using bloodbending. Any other time in his life, he would have considered it impossible. Desperation removed impossible from equation.

Amon closed his eyes, and lifted his hand slightly above Tarrlok's chest. He couldn't simply use his mind – his next task would require extreme precision. He mentally pictured the heart, blood pulsing through the organ and throughout the thousands of veins. He squeezed his hand slightly; halting the blood flow for a millisecond before resuming it's pulsing.

Tarrlok's back arched, disagreeing with Amon's methods. He relinquished the hold immediately, bending over and whispering desperate apologies to his unconscious brother.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, dissolving into a being barely like himself. Weak. "That I can't save you…" he choked, barely able to say his next thoughts. "That I _couldn't_ save you."

**.**

**.**

_Everything they'd known was falling apart._

_"Let's go. We can run away from this. Forever," Noatak promised his younger brother, cold voice almost warm and pleading. The idea that, together, they would escape their father's legacy and expectations sounded plausible. Then it did, at least._

_"Run away?" Tarrlok replied. "But what about Mom? We can't just leave her."_

_Noatak glazed over, his icy exterior enclosing him once more. Betrayal crossed his tone._

_"He was right about you," Noatak said, pointing with his eyes at their father – weak, destroyed – on the ground. "You are the weakling." Using his worst fear to incite pain – it had been low, even for him._

_Noatak broke off into a sprint, feet barely grazing the ground as he created pads of ice on the bottom of his boots. It was more like skating than running._

_"Noatak!" he heard Tarrlok call in the distance. "Don't leave!"_

_Quieter: "Please!"_

_Barely a whisper bellow the hallow wind: "Noatak!"_

**.**

**.**

"Don't leave, Tarrlok," Amon said with a tone of finality, just as he felt his brother's heart sputter beneath his hands. The effort was futile; most of Tarrlok's blood was in a puddle around his body. It had soaked into Amon's pants smeared across his hands.

Amon had never truly known silence until he felt his brother's life force leave the shell of his broken body.

**.**

**.**

* * *

***Flings self into a bowl of ice cream***


	15. Part XV Enlightened

**_A/N:_ **Hello. This chapter's going to be a little odd, because it's told from three different kinds of perspectives. One, the infamous flashbacks ~ a la "Out of the Past". Two, a little time travel, per se. Three, well, some Spirit World shenanigans.

Since I'm posting this on time, I'm gonna post the next chapter **Saturday**. And then I will release the epilogue soon after. LE GASP. Yes I just said epilogue. Meaning the end. Oh my goodness.

* * *

**.**

**.**

**-/ The Gateway Part XV /-**

******.**

**.**

There was an infinitely loud shriek in Korra's mind as she began to drown in the swirling nightmares that enraptured her unconscious state. First, she saw flashes of dreadfully horrible images: contorted bodies being through the air, children shivering in the snow, scorched skin and wild, familiar blue eyes gazing at her through a lens of despair.

Then she was walking in the darkness again, confusion taking her as she tried to pull some context from the void. With a breath, shaky and unsure, she inhaled all the memories prior to her being sent into her mental prison.

Korra's chest flared as the last memory struck her in the stomach. Amon. How _dare_he chi block her again! And of all the times, when her people needed her most he… he took away her choice!

If there had been a door in her dark prison, she would have slammed her fists against the barricade, her harrowing screams echoing through the chamber. She wasn't sure if she was more betrayed or afraid. Of course she felt betrayed – she thought that their confessions meant the end of him subduing her in that degrading way – taking her bending and making her unconscious. She thought that they had moved into a new era of mutual trust… love.

A snarl hung on Korra's lips as she now felt more foolish than ever.

However, a foreboding cloud cast over her mind, pushing away her anger as fear took hold. Amon had said something about her not becoming a martyr – somehow that translated in her mind as a self-destructive statement.

Panic rose inside her, and she wailed his name into the void. Still, they were deafened in the recesses of her mind. Then, a warm light carved through her despair and the void exploded with more colors than she could count.

.

.

"How bad is it?"

Mako looked away from Korra, who lay in the saddle upon the large sky bison, to check his brother's bloodied leg. With clinical fingers, he shifted the crusty red fabric to look at the wound. Bile rose in Mako's throat as he forced himself to look away.

"It's bad, Bo," Mako said honestly, swallowing the sour acid and locking his jaw. He placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder and then looked up to Tenzin.

The elder man, Airbending robes soiled from the Equalist attack, held the reigns of Oogi's saddle as they sped through the rainy night sky. His family also sat quietly in the back of the saddle; thankfully none of them were injured. However, Tenzin was troubled by Korra's failure to rouse from her slumber.

Tenzin glanced over his shoulder, as if sensing Mako's eyes on him. "How is she?"

"Unconscious," Mako said quickly, tersely. His eyebrows knit together as he reached a hand toward Korra's face. He brushed a piece of her hair away, revealing her flawless face. Intense worry sunk in his chest. "Though she doesn't have a mark on her…"

"Perhaps the chi blockers got her?

"No, she was with some water tribe guy with a messed up face…" Bolin mumbled, adjusting slightly to examine Korra. The movement sent a spark of pain up his fractured leg and he let out a weak whimper.

"Bo, don't move," Mako rebuked. The elder brother's lips tightened, but not because of Bolin hurting himself. The man he found Korra with, after a long, anxious search for her, was suspiciously _wrong. _Mako couldn't identify what bothered him the most, but the way the man held her was high on his list. He was protective, yet obstructive; Mako didn't like that it seemed like the man held her before.

"Hmm," Tenzin mused, worry still tainting his voice. "I'm afraid this was just the first of the attacks. Look."

Everyone turned their heads down, not only lights illuminating the cityscape but pillars of bright red flames scattered throughout.

"Republic City…" Tenzin murmured, disheartened. "Is most certainly in a state of civil war."

"War," Pema said, hand pressing against her large, pregnant stomach. Her eyes gazed toward Yue Bay, locking on the statue of Avatar Aang as Oogi approached Air Temple Island. "I remembering hearing stories from my parents, saying that war had tainted their lives but not mine. Never again."

"Perhaps the war didn't end, after all," Tenzin said. "In the hearts of people, the imbalances left scars in the hearts of all the nations. Perhaps there was no resolution, but a hiatus that was needed… if only for peace's sake."

He glanced to Korra, shoulders slumping as if with defeat. Not because he had lost hope, but because she was so young. Although, his own father had faced a daunting challenge at an even younger age. "Aang fought to balance the benders. Korra is the only hope for the balance between all of humanity."

Mako swallowed, gazing down at Korra. When had her face begun to crease in what seemed like anger and frustration. He touched her arm, perhaps to nudge her from unconsciousness if that's what she was emerging from, but pulled away with shock as her eyes began to glow beneath her lids.

.

.

It happened to her before; she had crossed over before, but the Spirit World and its wonders never ceased to amaze her. The sky was painted with amazingly vivid shades of blue, green, and yellow while the grass swayed in the auburn wind. A sensation that felt like freedom swept through her, but she was not satiated. The fears in her mind were not left forgotten, nor the danger that was on the other side.

She looked past the grass, into the tree line of the forest that followed. "I didn't ask to come here!" she yelled, her voice resonating throughout, reminding her that despite the open air that she was still a prisoner within her own mind, if not this world once more.

"Let me go!" she screamed. If she had her bending abilities, the earth would have rolled away from her like ripples in a pond. Korra's clenched fists would be filled with flames and the temptation to burn down this world would fill her until she followed through. Perhaps, even, the rain would fall from a cloudless sky if she so commanded. Korra had no domain in the Spirit World, she never did and never would, and this is what angered her the most. She had been made powerless, weak, and brought to her knees far too many times. Such weakness led her to love a man she barely knew, her own enemy.

And yet she loved him with a force she'd never felt before.

At that frustrating and intense thought, she screamed into the sky and it suddenly darkened. Maybe she was summoning the rain, or at least a storm cloud. She just wanted the opportunity to prove to the spirits or whatever force ruled this world that she was in control. That she was the Avatar, and trifling with her life had been enough but now – when Republic City needed her and _Amon_needed her…

If she were awake, she would be hyperventilating. As of now, the pure energy of the Spirit World was swirling around her as she unwillingly called upon her past lives.

Korra blinked and suddenly all was calm, but her mind tingled as words entered her ears.

"Korra."

She recognized the voice immediately, though it seemed from a lifetime ago. Well, literally, yes it was, but figuratively she recognized the voice from the last time she was in the Spirit World. Instead of Appa coming to her, and then taking her to meet Aang, it seemed her past life had come to her.

"Aang," she breathed, spinning around to face him. Relief filled her – she knew he could help her get out. She could only describe being trapped in the Spirit World against her wishes as something akin to claustrophobia. "Please- you have to help me –" she began, but the words hung in her throat as she realized not only was Avatar Aang was present, but her other predecessors. Before her stood Aang, Roku, and even Kyoshi – hardened expressions on all of their faces.

"I –" she started, eyes flashing between the past Avatars. "What are you all doing here? I didn't ask for any of you." Their rigid glares made Korra defensive; she sensed that they were not purely there to help her.

"Your behavior of late has been concerning," Kyoshi spoke up bluntly. Korra found herself taking a step back from the fierce warrior. Numerous stories of her fierce and deliberate acts as the Avatar were told to her, during the history portions of her training. Korra always thought it were Kyoshi's shoes she had to fill, being the first female Avatar since the earthbender. However, Korra found no similarities between Kyoshi and herself. "Therefore, we do not require an invitation."

"I haven't done anything," Korra said in a low breath. "I've learned Airbending – no thanks to any of you." She grimaced, taking on a juvenile stance despite her anxiety. "Well, except you Aang," she amended quietly.

"Korra," Aang said, like a parent demanding the attention of their errant child. "You have been… _sleeping_with the enemy."

Korra reddened and her stomach sank. "I have _not_!" Korra squeaked, swallowing as her eyes focused on the ground. She was never a good liar; Korra realized that she was entirely transparent and raised her chin with as much strength as she could muster. "He isn't my enemy. Not anymore."

"You are foolish if you think he has changed," Kyoshi mocked. "You have even admitted it to yourself."

Gritting her teeth, Korra's voice rose an octave. "How dare you spy on my thoughts!"

Kyoshi rolled her eyes as if regarding a child, which inflamed Korra even more. Roku held up an arm as if to sever the tension. He spoke to Kyoshi with a firm voice. "We all make mistakes," Roku said. "She still has time to make amends."

"I don't _want _to make amends – Amon is different. He isn't just some criminal. I can't let him die!"

"That would be for the best," Kyoshi injected sourly.

Korra blanched at Kyoshi, wishing that there were some way she could thrash the elder Avatar for being so apathetic.

"I – I _love_ him. I don't know why or how, but I do and – I – he _can't_ die." Korra turned to Avatar Aang, looking for an ally. "You wouldn't let Katara die would you? You sacrificed the ability to go into the Avatar State to save her, _once_, Aang. I have nothing to gain by helping him, but everything to lose if I don't."

The past Avatars thought about that for a moment, their eyes crossing between one another. Then they turned back to Korra like a jury delivering judgment

Kyoshi stepped forward with a sobering expression on her porcelain face. "The Avatar must be diligent, to give justice where it is due. Amon is a criminal and has committed a crime against not only humanity, but spirits by interfering with Avatar matters. Taking one's bending is a right and power solely reserved for the master of all four elements."

As Kyoshi stepped back, having finished giving her advice to Korra, Roku emerged and bowed his head. "You mustn't be passive when it comes to matters regarding your destiny. Even – and especially – if those matters also touch your heart."

Aang stepped forward, closer than any of the other had, hovering a hand above her forehead. Her eyes lit up, sensing something shifting as the other Avatars evaporated in the blowing wind. She gazed up, somewhat afraid of his presence because he seemed much more Avatar-like than she ever had ever imagined. Nothing like the charming and youthful man she'd heard stories about

"As the Avatar, you can't save everyone."

.

.

The sensation of Aang entering her mind was feather-light at first - like her psyche was being caressed an unseen hand. Subtle memories trickled into her mind, like the smell of panda lilies in spring or wet grass after a brief summer rain in Southern Mountains. How did she know the scents, she didn't know. She only accepted the knowledge that Aang was gently layering sensations of his past on every inch of her conscious mind.

Then the pleasant sensations began to fade, his presence becoming more forced as he shoved heavier memories into the forefront of her mind. Muddled words entered her ears as images flooded her mind – moving, glowing, and so familiar yet foreign.

.

.

_Toph's slender, pale finger extended toward Yakone with a fury that was even powerful for her. **"It's over. You're under arrest, Yakone,"** she said in a dangerous tone._  
_A sly smile crossed the man's face, cruel and smug. **"What is Republic City coming to? Used to be, a man could enjoy his lunch… in peace."**_  
_Toph snapped her wrist, capturing his wrist with her metal cable, yanking him forward. **"What's the big idea?"** he demanded in a low voice._  
**_"We have dozens of witnesses, Yakone,"_**_ Aang said, angry and poignant._

.

.

**_"_****_ I remind the council that bloodbending is an incredibly rare skill and it can only be performed during a full moon. Yet, the witnesses will claim that my client used bloodbending at every other time except during a full moon."_**

.

.

**_"_****_I'm taking away your bending- for good."_**

.

.

Infinity. That was what energybending felt like. Even though she was watching behind a a screen, only witnessing the removing of Yakone's bending through muddled memories, she could feel the bright light of the glow permeate a lifetime. The sensation was but an echo of something her soul once did, when connected to another body. Still, it conducted through her in light pulses, making time seem like it was infinite.

.

Korra gasped and opened her eyes, and she was among a busy crowd. She was sure that what she was seeing was through her own eyes, not through an omniscient seat in the Spirit World. The sky was overcast, small dribbles of rain trickling down on Korra's cheeks as if she were actually there. She had never experienced the heat of summer, but the humidity made her fingers sticky as she ran her fingers through hair.

"This is not a memory." Korra jumped, turning to see Aang towering above her, but his eyes went out into the crowd. "Partially."

The tapping of a microphone brought jolted Korra to attention, as well as the people among the crow – who were oblivious to hers and Aang's presences. Her eyes followed the direction of those around her, two a large stage set in the middle of the square. It was makeshift, made from metal sheets and thin flaps of wood. Korra approached the stage curiously, seeing that, in the center, a slightly older Avatar Aang. Korra turned to spirit-Aang, eyebrows furrowing.

"What is this?" she said, unsure of the question she was looking to ask. "When…where…?"

"The darkest day in Republic City's history," Aang said curtly, lips tightening as he looked toward the stage, shame filling his eyes. Korra swallowed, turning to watch the stage again.

**"Citizens of Republic City,"** the voice of Avatar Aang carried over the crowd, silencing them. **"I have come to you today, because of the rising tensions between benders and nonbenders in the city."**

"This is before I truly understood the rift between the benders and nonbenders," spirit-Aang explained in a hushed voice. "Nonbenders across the city had protested here, in the main square, before the Council decided that someone had to interfere."

**"We have fallen apart, recovering from a war many of us still remember. But our children do not have to grow up with these memories.**"

**"Instead they're growing up remembering seeing their father's face burned off!"** a woman screeched from the crowd. Korra found the source, eyeing her as she pulled a small child to her chest. **"You have done _nothing_ to protect us from the gangs!"**

Avatar Aang hesitated, leaning against the microphone. He attempted to answer, but he stammered, as if someone held his tongue. **"Chief Bei Fong is doing everything in her power to extinguish organized crime. We can all agree that the Red Monsoons have lost control ever since Yakone was removed from the picture nearly 18 years ago – "**

**"When Yakone was here, the other gangs were too chicken shit to try anything!"** and old man bellowed from another corner of the crowd. **"Now they are all loose, and the metalbenders can't even hold them down!"**

**"We're just simple farmers!"** the woman with the child spoke up again. **"We've been extorted and my husband – well, _my husband is gone_! My child has no father!"**

Avatar Aang bowed his head, defeat in his eyes as he tried to reason with the growing unrest in the crowd. Korra could even hear the defiant murmurs, cursing the Avatar. Even using his 100 year absence even as a weapon to degrade his reputation. Korra's heart ached as she continued to listen, knowing that she, in a way, held these perceptions as well. Even a lifetime apart, she was in Aang's shadow. She was responsible to live up to Aang's greatness by his supporters, and expected to exceed Aang's failures by his enemies.

**"I _must_ leave this to the police, as it was decreed at Republic City's founding." **With that, he stepped away from the microphone, and off the stage.

At that moment, the crowd – now a insolent rally – burst into an uproar. But as Aang spoke to Korra again, the voices lowered to a quiet murmur.

"The Council pressured me into staying neutral, placid," Aang said despondently, shaking his head. "After the incident with Yakone."

"_Incident_?" Korra inquired, skin flushing as she sympathized with Aang's troubles with the Council. "You took his bending, you weakened the worst gang in Republic City."

"But you see," he said. "He got away. He escaped. It was my decision to take his bending, rather than… the alternative."

Korra's antagonism paused. "_Wait_– I thought the council voted to send him life in prison?"

Aang nodded. "That was only after I convinced the council that he would be harmless without his bending."

Korra's eyes widened, shoulders tensing as realization flashed through her. Yakone was going to be sentenced to death, and he probably deserved it, but Aang chose to save him. He held his influence, as the Avatar, over the Council's head to do so. He defied the government, and the ultimate escape of Yakone resulted in his credibility being degraded.

"They blamed you," Korra said.

"It's actually quite ridiculous. I was raised to believe that a life was a life, precious no matter how tainted. Of course, you've learned about my struggles with that concept."

"With Ozai," Korra said with a nod.

"Yes. And with Yakone- I thought I was being equally just. After all, Yakone didn't carry on a 100 year war." A small smile graced his cheeks, if only to address the irony.

Screaming broke through the barrier Aang had raised during their conversation, his connection seeming to crack. "Why are you telling me all this? What does this have to do with the Equalists? Amon?"

Aang gestured around them. "You see these people – they are in an uproar. I failed to be their Avatar. I failed them, in this moment. This moment was the birth of a revolution. _The_revolution."

"The revolution won't be for another, what, twenty years!"

"Just look."

Korra obeyed, walking through the crowd unnoticed, but able to see every angle. There was something she was meant to see – she could feel a burning sensation her stomach drawing her toward the woman who had addressed Avatar Aang during his speech. The one with a child. Korra approached her; hesitant, even though when someone touched her she moved through them like a ghost. The woman had long black hair, streaming down her shoulders as she tried to protect her daughter from the chaos.

Screams erupted: blood-curdling, painful screams. Korra jerked, seeing flames spurting into the air above her. Dangerous streaks, not considerate of the people bellow.

**_"Triple Threats!"_**someone shouted, the screams escalated even more. Of course, the crowd was filled with nonbenders who opposed the gangs.

"_After I left, the gangs came to extinguish the protest themselves,_" Aang whispered in her mind, though she didn't see him around her. She was alone, following a path that she was meant to follow. Heat still flamed in her chest, both with fear and foreign anticipation, as she glided closer to the woman and child.

Something caught Korra's eye, a young man shrugging past her as if he knew she were standing in the way. Though, he did not give Korra a second glance. Intrigued, Korra followed _him_, surprised that he too was ushering toward the woman and child.

**"Ina,"** he said, his voice hushed but crystal clear in Korra's ears. **"We must leave."**

**"I know,"** the woman, Ina muttered, clutching her daughter closer against her stomach – Korra realized Ina was pregnant. **"I cannot leave my people. But _Meng_, you must take Aya away from here. I did not know –"**

_Meng?_

Korra staggered forward, breaths labored as she stood a mere few feet away from them. Once he was in her direct line of sight, she knew her ears hadn't mistaken her. His hair was tied up in a ponytail, eerily similar to hers, and he wore a fur-lined tunic that was clearly Watertribe. She hadn't even thought he might be genuinely from the Watertribe, but just a descendent. Only a true native would be wearing what he was.

His face was nearly the same, except it was still roundish, a trace of boyhood left. Only a trace – his eyes were filled with that same sadness and anger Korra saw in Amon. Meng, Amon… it didn't matter what his name was, only that it was him. Young, face perfect and unmarked, but eyes still the piercing blue as he looked at Ina.

**"Ina, I promise to protect her, as you've protected me,"**he swore earnestly. The little girl didn't want to leave her mother's arms.

**"Mama," **Aya whimpered, eyed dampening. **"I—I don't wanna leave you."**She hugged her mother tighter.

**"Please go with Meng,"**the mother said a little more firmly, eyes flashing with worry as another flame exploded a few feet away from where they were standing. The nonbenders scattered, like insects fleeing from a foreboding swat.

With much deliberation, Aya pulled away from her mother. Meng grabbed Aya quickly by the waist and pulled her to his chest protectively. His eyes locked with Ina's. **"I will be at home," **he promised with much certainty. Aya wiggled in his arms, her hands latching around his muscular neck.** "_We_ will be at home," **he amended.

And then he took Aya and sprinted through the crowd. Korra paid no attention to anything else around her, only focusing on the younger version of the man she loved, yet knew so little about. Concerned, curious, she ran after them.

Once she caught up with him, Korra saw he'd come to a complete halt. Their path was being blocked by two men, greasy and clearly threatening expressions across their faces. Korra marched forward, standing just behind Amon as she watched carefully.

**"Watertribe scum,"**one spat through the commotion, holding out a flame in his palm. It barely stayed alive because the rain and humidity attempted to smother the fire.

Amon held Aya in his chest tighter, hiding her eyes in the crook of his shoulder. **"I want no trouble,"**Amon said, voice low and anodyne.

**"You are a waterbender, and a sympathizer of these bottom-feeders,"**the firebender spat.

**"I am not a waterbender,"**Amon stated, his flinch clear to Korra but probably not the gang members.

**"Then you are a bottom-feeder nonetheless."** The firebender eyed Aya, a twisted smirk growing on his cracked lips. **"She isn't yours. She's too pale to be a Watertribe parasite. Your little… _pet_, perhaps?"**

"Don't you dare speak like that!" Amon snapped, pulling back as he regretted showing so much emotion. Aya whimpered into his shoulder.

**"She is pretty cute. Little white skin, untouched, so pure… well, perhaps not so pure as one might think." **He began to laugh cruelly, clutching his stomach.

**"You are sick,"** Amon growled, setting Aya down close to him. **"Stand over there,"**he instructed, pointing over toward Korra. She wondered if he could sense her, her protectiveness. As Aya wandered over to where Korra stood, she rubbed frightened tears from her eyes. Korra outstretched a hand, running her ghostly fingers through the little girl's hair, imagining the sensation comforting her.

Once Amon saw Aya was at a good distance, he turned toward the gang members and fell into a fighting stance, limbs loose and feet light in his fur boots.

**"Oh you want to fight me, nonbender?"**the firebender tantalized.

**"It would be my pleasure."**

Both of the gang members drew flames into their fingertips, scowling as they launched toward Amon in a fury of fire and heat. Amon easily dodged the attacks, much like he did in the present day, but a little more sloppy. He was cocky, and his arrogance was written across conveyed with a smirk. Another flame was thrown at Amon, which flew by his face, barely failing to singe the strands **"Your bending is useless against me."**

The firebender rolled on his heels, a snarl on his lips as he eyed Amon. **"Useless on you,"** he panted under the droning of the train. Hair dripping and greasy, he glanced around frantically. Amon was out showing them, playing down how threatening they really were. His eyes rolled in Korra's direction, wild, and a smile grew on his lips. **"Perhaps not the girl!"**

Time moved slowly, the rain dripping through the sky like syrup, and the sounds of screaming and yelling becoming warped. As the firebender threw his arms out, wrists clashing together to create a hose of flames that even the rain couldn't extinguish, Amon acted. His body flew through the air, sprawling across the distance as much as he could.

"No!" Korra yelped, reaching out but another force pulling her away. She fought it, silent tears filling her eyes and mixing with the rain. The image, the vision, swirled into black and Korra found herself standing before Avatar Aang again.

"Why didn't you save him, Aang?" she asked quietly, resentment leaking through her words.

"I couldn't. I wasn't there," Aang answered curtly.

"You were so close! You let all that happen!" Korra challenged, thrashing her arms up in the air. "All those people… how many died?"

"Too many." Aang lifted his chin, concealing his sadness as he continued a very serious chain of thought. "There is little I cold have done. In hindsight, I know I could have done more. But, at some point, destiny decided that it took a great catastrophe to bring about the most change. The results of this riot, the deaths, began the reforms which lead to equal rights for benders and nonbenders."

"That doesn't justify it," Korra huffed. "I-if he wasn't burned, attacked, Amon wouldn't be… _Amon. _You are responsible!"

"I am, but not because of that incident."

Korra's brows knit together, expression mocking and inquisitive. "A firebender took his face. Just like he said. He's in it for revenge," she asserted.

"His journey toward being Amon began before – before him being scarred. It began with me letting Yakone live."

"I don't understand."

"Then you have not paid attention," he said restlessly. He glanced upward. "Our time is almost up. You must remember: the Avatar cannot save everyone."

.

.

* * *

**So, obviously, there are a few things you could/should be able to draw from this chapter. In my AU, Amon gained his scars protecting a child. A child who, as you might have guessed, is very important to him. I have created a little back story in my mind - while writing that scene - and have left it open to make a mini prequel if I so choose. If you want to know more about that... well, you can message me on tumblr or simply leave a review and I'll answer your question in my next AN.**

**Another thing you might have drawn was the pseudonym Amon was going by: Meng. In the Spirit World, he thought he'd lost all memories of his past. Apparently not. This little coincidence will be addressed in the epilogue.**

**... Next chapter. How does Amon address Tarrlok's death? What happens when Korra wakes up?**


	16. Part XVI Amon & The Avatar

**_A/N:_ **I said that this would be the last official chapter but I lied. I'm splitting this up, even though it's quite short, just to keep the suspense alive... just to torture you a little more...

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**.**

**.**

**-/ The Gateway Part XVI /-**

******.**

**.**

The connection with Aang was severed cleanly, the distinct feeling of isolation rising up in her throat as she looked around. She found herself in darkness, but not the usual kind when she was but a prisoner in a vacant corridor of her own mind. It actually wasn't as dark as she initially observed. One harsh, yellow light streamed from above, catching on the bit of smog that filled the room.

No, **room** wasn't the right word. Korra was in a warehouse. Thick iron beams strung across the ceiling, supporting the weak tin roof that seemed to already have tears. Taking in her surroundings, Korra's eyes dropped, and she realized that people surrounded her. Not in masses, but scattered about the area as they turned toward the source of the light.

There was a stage.

The emotion of the group was already radiating into Korra's mind. Desperate. Broken. She could tell by the bandages some wore – missing limbs that were poorly tended to, crusted wrappings that were soaked with old blood – and the rancid clothes. These were not people of substance, but people who had been hammered down until they had no choice but to cling to the surface with their jagged fingernails.

Korra emerged from the shadows, drawn toward the light as if it were calling for her.

From the back of the stage emerged a hooded man. A thick black jacket, soiled fur coating the collar, was pulled over his head so that his face was concealed by the lack of lighting. He took slow, deliberate steps toward the front of the stage, finding a suitable place in the center as he gazed out into the audience.

Korra, as well as the other spectators, held their breaths as they waited for him to speak. Korra didn't even have the faintest idea what kind of words would escape his mouth, only the sense that they were words that she needed to hear.

The silence was severed by a familiar timbre of voice: deep, dangerous, smooth, and eloquent. The heightened fear within her was unfounded, because she knew the voice. However, Korra was alarmed by the severity of it.

"Fellow nonbenders," Amon began, and the whole room exhaled in synchronization. A pang of irony rocked through her as Korra remembered that _this_ part of Amon's identity – the most crucial part – was a lie. Yet, the faces of the heartbroken gleamed with hope as they gazed upon the charismatic young man.

He continued: "You have heard of me, I know you have, that is why you are here. You heard of me, the man who bested three members of the Red Monsoons; me, the man who strung two corrupt metalbending officers by their own cables on Omashu Bridge. As this city's founders die, so does its morals and so does its sympathy for us: the ones most affected by the war. The defenseless. The nonbenders.

"The police have painted me, but an average man, as a masked vigilante. A pillar of fear and a threat to the benders of this city. I have done nothing but protect my own, and punish those worthy of punishing," Amon continued, raising his chin and revealing his sharp chin slightly. Even from her distance, Korra could see the speckling of fresh, pink scar tissue running down his jaw. Amon suddenly reached into the inside of his jacked and paused.

"I do not wear a mask. I did not intend to invoke fear in the hearts of undeserving benders. You have seen the propaganda, regarding my methods. Chi blocking, as you know, is frowned upon. Yet, there is no defense mechanism against benders. Thus, I have realized, that to save this city I must become the villain benders have made me out to be." From the inside of his jacket, emerged the mask that Korra knew so well, freshly painted with the circle of crimson.

"I am what I am, but to the world I shall be known as something more," he said, pushing back his hood and exposing his scarred face to the audience. Only for a moment, to incite a small murmur of anger among the crowd. Then he buckled the mask onto his face. "The tyranny of the bending establishment will be… short-lived. Even though, to accomplish this, we must lay rest to our cause and become but a dark memory, our quiet whisper of revolution shall never die.

"One day, when the current Avatar is dead and the next is but a child, the city will be ours for the taking." His voice was dripping with anticipation, excitement, and this sickened Korra in her core. He was much less composed than the Amon she knew – she wondered if he still held all of this within him. Her heart ached to know that Amon loathed everything she stood for.

"I am not a man; the man I once was died with my dignity. I am now something else, something stronger. More powerful," he spoke carefully. "I am Amon. And together we shall rid the world of benders, my fellow... _equalists._"

**.**

**.**

The wind whistled around the bison, but this wind was not from the atmosphere. It was centered around Korra, who still lay with glowing blue eyes, twisting her hair as her back arched upward. It was nearly a contortion, the sharpness of her movement, and Mako nearly fell backward with surprise. Worry overtook him , as he wondered what was occurring beneath her closed eyes. The wind was getting stronger, and Tenzin said something about landing Oogi. Mako nodded numbly, agreeing, but unable to make words come out of his mouth. Korra was radiating something: pure power, his mind suggested. The fire that always bubbled underneath his fingertips grew hotter and he swore he might combust.

The wind ceased and Korra's eyes shot open, the glow remaining and illuminating space around her. Her skin also had a tinted glow, giving her an angelic appearance as she lifted from the saddle.

"Korra?" Mako murmured, realizing his words were lost in his thickened voice. He repeated her name.

She did not look at him, but instead cocked her head toward the rainy sky. As the raindrops touched her face, they immediately evaporated as if she were boiling. Or, perhaps, she was absorbing the water.

All gazed in awe, amazement, as they witnessed Korra in the Avatar State. Not even Tenzin had ever witnessed his father enter the state of power, and he quietly worried that Korra wasn't ready. That she wasn't strong enough to harness the power. Then he remembered that Korra wasn't merely a girl anymore. On this very night, she had breached womanhood. Perhaps it was only appropriate that she became a fully-realized Avatar. Not just a spiritually aware Avatar, but in control of every aspect of the Avatar State.

Tenzin attempted to make contact, almost wondering if his own father's spirit swirled beneath the surface. "Korra, you needn't be in the Avatar State," he said firmly. "You are safe here." It wasn't commanding or fatherly, but a statement of fact. As if he were trying to reason with a being more powerful and all knowing than himself. Of course, she was.

Tenzin staggered back as Korra's glowing eyes locked with his. When she spoke, it was as if her voice was layered with a thousand others, echoing into every ear, resonating into the sky like thunder: "It is done."

Everyone was confused by what she meant. Little did they know she had said these words before, in another world, another time. Those were the words of a furious being with little concept of rationale and self-control.

In a movement that was too fast for anyone to stop, Korra stood and dove off the sky bison, thrusting herself into the rainy sky and freefalling into the city.

* * *

**More of Amon's backstory yay! I really wish I could just write his biography or something. Unf.**

**And hmm, what in the world is Korra doing? I guess we'll find out soon...**


	17. Part XVII The Other Side

**_A/N:_ **This is the last chapter ~ and there are just a few things I'd like to say.

This has been amazing. For me, The Gateway has bettered me as both a fan and an artist. I have made connections with so many amazing people on-and-off my ship through writing fanfiction - this one especially. The flattery of meeting a reader never died and I mean that in the most ASDFGHJKL way possible.

I'd like to thank my friend alchemistextraordinaire for not only BETAing some of the chapters in this story, but listening to my ranting daily about my feels. Without her, this would have never got written. Without her, this story would be shit. Just saying.

There will be an epilogue, but I'm not sure if I even like it. But I made it. I need it, just to satisfy my broken heart. OK. STOP TALKING. Read & review, my beautiful readers? :D

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**.**

**.**

**-/ The Gateway Part XVII /-**

******.**

**.**

The whispering of her past lives began to fade, as well as the light that engulfed every inch of her body. It was like a flame slowly being smothered. Korra was consciously aware that she was not in complete control of herself when enraptured by the Avatar State. She never thought she would be so helpless to fight it, to be subdued by her own power. Like the stories she'd heard growing up, the severity of her emotion pulled her under like a deadly riptide.

To Korra, becoming a fully realized Avatar was always her goal. Her ambition. Though, her life had shifted and so had her purpose. When confronted with an actual conflict, as tangible as the dirt of the ground or the water in the ocean, she became a different person.

Korra heard the whistling of the wind in her ears, stirring her hair all about as she sliced through the air. Panic seized her, as she realized she was falling. She flailed her arms around desperately, trying to create some drag to slow her dissension.

How did she even get in the sky?

That thought quickly slipped her mind as she saw the ground coming closer and closer, the dots of yellow on the ground becoming fully visible street lamps. Panic: that's what she felt. Her stomach twisted, anticipating the utter pain that would come with the impact.

Korra then remembered she could airbend.

She jerked her arms through the air, positioning her self so that she could make the appropriate form in the sky. Korra swung her leg, her arms following in the most seamless motion her body could attempt in the condition she was in. She was oddly sore, numbed by being chi blocked despite the time that had surpassed. At least, it felt like a lot of time had passed. Her experience in the Spirit World proved that her conception of time was relative, and not corresponding with the tangible plane.

Air gushed from her palms, and a breath of relief poured from her lungs as a cushion of air formed around her, pillowing the fall but hardly making it a soft landing. She landed on her ankle funny, and it rolled in a direction that was entirely unnatural. She hissed in pain as she gave out, falling over and continuing to roll on her stomach as the inertia faded.

For a few minutes, she lay on the ground, gasping for breath as she tried to sit up. The split in her dress had ripped up completely along the side, and a bloody gash formed across her stomach from rolling over something that wasn't exactly smooth pavement. Korra could feel a gravely substance embedded in her arms, the taste of blood in her mouth.

Moving made the pain worse, much to her dismay. She had to get up. She had to get back to the City Hall.

Korra forced herself to sit up, angry tears pouring down her cheeks. Her injuries were severe… but she didn't have a choice. The Avatar didn't get a time-out when she was needed. She knew that now.

Mentally narrowing the room for weakness, Korra found it easier – no less painful though—to lift herself from the ground. I breathy sob passed through her lips, salty tears running into her mouth as she began to limp down the street.

Street signs indicated that she wasn't far from her destination. Korra forced herself to burst into a sprint. The movements strained every injured and injured muscle in her body, but the adrenaline helped drown out the pain. One hand clenched her abdomen, trying to stop the bleeding.

Korra's vision began to whiten, lightheaded and dizzy as blood oozed from her wounds. Slowly, in the drizzling rain, her body was mending itself. She focused on the glowing sensation that came when she healed herself, but was suddenly preoccupied when she came upon a burning building. She stared blankly upward, the billowing smoke mixing with the raining clouds and wet flakes of ash fluttering down on her cheeks. The sensation was oddly familiar, one that struck terror and anger into chest. Korra locked her jaw, submerging into the flames.

**.**

**.**

The light padding of feet behind Amon was lost to him, but the familiar scent of burnt plastic was not. The smell was produced when hot, freshly used kali sticks came in contact with their faux-leather containment straps. The only Equalist who used the electric weapons and was additionally too impatient to let them cool before storing them away was none other than the lieutenant.

Amon raised his eyes, not turning his head, but paid special attention the growingly heavy footsteps behind him. His senses were heightened, sensitive, but his hands still trembled with sadness and rage that was incomparable to even his emotions on the day his face was marred. Still, he was one who always valued negative jing. He waited, and then acted. Though, as of late, he had been quite irrational and he questioned whether patience was even possible at this point.

Before he could make up his mind, the lieutenant rounded around Tarrlok's body, gazing down at Amon with what he could only describe as ignorant bliss. Had his former-subordinate known – not only _who_ he was – what Amon's blood-stained mind conceived as a cruel act of revenge, the traitor would be running for the Earth Kingdom border.

Instead, the lieutenant presented himself as one who knew victory and held the grandest of fortunes. Cocky, radiating self-satisfaction. Was this how Amon appeared, when he walked on stage and brought a bender to their knees? Surely not – his former comrade was almost… pleased. Amon was never pleased when fear was the only option to achieve his goals. A time in his life, he did believe that equality could be achieved peacefully. He was foolish to think so, but it was equally foolish to let the power consume him to this point. Clearly, it had consumed his most assumingly loyal lieutenant.

"You grieve, when you should celebrate," the masked man said, one hand draped over his shoulder as he clenched the handle of one of his rods. Although Amon appeared weak in his grieving, the lieutenant was calm, collected, and prepared.

Amon taught him well.

The lieutenant rolled his eyes hat Amon's unresponsiveness. "Tarrlok was all but a saint. He was corrupt and evil, even more so than the rest of the benders in the city."

"His death is justified then?" Amon spoke up suddenly, his voice masked by the thick emotion that never plagued it in his followers' presences.

"You must be a bender – if you weren't, you'd understand what Tarrlok's oppressive policies have done. He received what was deserved for his fear-mongering."

"And what of your leader?" Amon replied barely above a murmur, shockingly disturbed by the comparison. Had he become… corrupt? Hungry for destruction? Staring into the eyes of his closest comrade, the hatred flaring in the lieutenant's eyes, clearly conveyed that Amon's mission was indeed fueled by revenge and not by the logic which he clung to for so many years.

The lieutenant only partially responded. "Amon has been good at rallying support. Essentially, he was a symbol. A great leader, but a man. Not a god like he seems to be."

"Even gods fall," Amon said, looking down at Tarrlok. His eyes flashed back up with a new degree of loathing.

"I would say he's your brother," the lieutenant mentioned nonchalantly. "The resemblance is uncanny. Though, Republic City knows that Tarrlok has no family other than his late mother and father."

"One would think," Amon replied curtly.

"It is unfortunate that you had to lose him. Now, perhaps, you know the power behind the revolution. It is the grief that fans the flames of our fire."

"It is unfortunate how blind you are to the crime you have committed – how completely and utterly _blind _you are to the consequences of your actions," Amon growled, his voice dropping into a rigorous tone. Nearly desperate, not quite empty.

The lieutenant scoffed, arms falling to his sides, as he perceived Amon as no longer a threat. Amon's eyebrows dropped, his body coiling and tensing as he swallowed every emotion in him,compartmentalizing his humanity.

"Today, Republic City will fall into the hands of a fair government, ran by an Equalist government of nonbenders. The epitome of corruption being removed from this city's future was hardly a mistake."

"No," Amon said, rising from his knees. "That was your _second _mistake." The lieutenant immediately reached for his kali stick, eyes narrowing as he watched the man before him. "The _first_ mistake you made was following a man so blindly, without knowing a single thing about him.

"And the _third_ mistake was crossing me, lieutenant."

The lieutenant's expression faltered and his lips fell open in a quiet gasp. "_Amon_."

"You betrayed me, comrade," Amon said in a cross voice. He peeled the shreds of blood-soaked clothing from his chest, revealing his rigid muscles that hid beneath layers of clothing for so many years. No one was quite aware of his pure, physical strength. It was always assumed. But his body was sculpted from stone. Yet, his glare was more rigid than his body would ever be, as he stared upon the lieutenant. "You first turn your back on me, lose faith in everything I have given you. Then, you turn the revolution against me. I never expected such treachery from you," Amon said carefully, no emotion breaking through his words despite the boiling anger in his chest. The lieutenant flinched backward.

Amon continued. "And you kill my brother. My estranged brother, albeit but – _my – brother!"_

There it was: the tear in Amon's emotionless seam, the crack in the hardened façade. The lieutenant took that opportunity to strike.

He ripped out his kali sticks, the electricity sparking on their ends simultaneously. Amon sidestepped, dodging the blow of the rods that were aimed at his neck. They went back and forth like that for a few seconds, before a ragged expression crossed lieutenant's face and his expression broke.

"You lying _son of a bitch_!" he growled, hurling one of his kali sticks at Amon, the electrified weapon suddenly becoming a projectile. Not expecting the attack, the rod struck Amon's bare skin and a quick jolt of electricity shuddered through his body, bringing him to his knees. He groaned, looking upward.

"I trusted you," the lieutenant rasped as he approached Amon.

"As I, you." Amon's expression was mocking through his pain.

"When I found out you were fucking the Avatar, I tried to deny it. It made sense though, the way you were acting," the lieutenant hissed a breath of frustration. "How long?"

Amon did not answer.

"And you're the tyrant's _brother_," the lieutenant, trying to get some kind of reaction from his former leader.

"_Was_, since you killed him," Amon growled, unforgiving. "You should not speak ill of the dead. Especially since your time among the living is about to be cut short."

"Is that a threat?"

Amon raised a hand, flicking his fingers, testing their abilities. "No, it is but a reminder of your mortality. Life is short when you go around burning bridges with the wrong people."

Lieutenant snarled and dove forward with his other kali stick, going in for a strike to Amon's head, but his arm ceased mid-motion. The lieutenant's body hung in the air, crackling and contorting, bending in ways his body wasn't meant to bend. The kali stick dropped to the ground, the sound of the clattering electricity dulling bellow the groaning of the air ship above them.

Amon smiled, but the smile immediately fell a way and bile rose in his throat. The sensation of bloodbending, in this manner, was indescribable. So much control – _too_ much control. Bloodbending was the incarnation of greed.

"I was wrong," Amon yelled in a loose, ashamed voice. "Evil isn't born f-from bending. It is born from greed and wrath and –" angry tears filled his eyes. "I was _wrong_.

"It didn't have to end this way," Amon finished with a whisper, his fingers wrapping themselves around the ventricles of the lieutenant's heart.

Amon's senses were dulled by the trembling in his body, as, for the first time in his life, we was going to utilize his curse in the manner his father taught him. In a manner he swore never to use.

Amon didn't sense the Equalist approaching behind him, carrying a broad piece of steel, heated at its tip from being set in a fire. Though, the lieutenant, even in the bloodbending hold, saw.

"It did," he told Amon through gritted teeth. "There – isn't – a place left for b-enders… _anymore_."

**.**

**.**

Korra's eyes only found Amon a few moments before it happened.

Korra wove through the debris. She coughed slightly, still aching all over as she limped through the nearly collapsed building. The air ship still hung overhead, yet to have fallen despite the fact both she and Amon were positive that it would fall at any given moment. Her eyes widened when she saw Amon, hands flicking through the air. It was in a specific form that she'd only heard about, never seen. Like a puppet master. The lieutenant, someone she'd faced many times before, hovered in the air, his body flailing and warped into a position that seemed physically impossible.

_Bloodbending._

Realization struck her like a bolt of blue lighting, seizing her chest and bringing an oppressive weight on her heart – she felt strangled and weak, suddenly knowing the meaning of her visions.

Yakone was Amon's father.

Before she could react, even absorb what was happening, _it_ happened.

A torn piece of what looked like a metal rafter pierced straight through Amon's abdomen, the ease of it unbelievably smooth. Korra shrieked, moving forward with all her might. Reckless lashes of wind sprayed all around, the debris above them loosening. The lieutenant, still injured from being bloodbent, crawled across the floor, in a poor attempt to escape Korra. She slammed her foot into the ground, creating a crater in the process, as she summoned a several pillars around the lieutenant so he could not get away from her. Tears streamed down her face as she fell to her knees, falling next to Amon's body.

She couldn't swallow the bile in her throat as she pulled the metal from his stomach, blood immediately gushing out the hole it left in him. Korra sobbed, pressing her hands to the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. She still held her hands there, if only to feel the heat of him just a little longer… she could already it feel it fading…

Korra couldn't give up on him now. She closed her eyes, trying to summon the power within her, the power that came when she needed it most.

_Nothing._

Then she screamed at the spirits, cursing every Avatar's name she could remember and then every spirit as well. She slammed her fist against Amon's chest, feeling nothing but a faint heartbeat beneath them, and there was nothing she could do.

_The Avatar cannot save everyone._

That is what this was about – to teach her a lesson? Was this tragic end planned from the beginning? To teach her a lesson about being a selfish Avatar? She had been selfish, caring about her wants and needs rather than the needs of the world. Korra thought she cared about the world… but her conflictions and overpowering emotions just seemed to get in the way.

It was punishment.

"Why do you punish him for what I've done?" Korra shrieked through her cracked lips, rocking on her knees before falling into Amon's bloody chest. She just wanted to talk to him again, to hear him laugh, give a rare smile. Something. There was so much that they hadn't done, so many things she wanted to ask. About her visions. About _why _he was Amon and not simply just the Watertribe boy she saw from years ago.

Korra grabbed Amon by his head, pressing her fingers into his temples. She is too incoherent to meditate, instead she just chants his name, hoping that in some outer realm they would meet… and she could bring him back.

Slow breaths.

_Impossible._

She opened her eyes, tears blurring her vision, but quickly realized something was wrong. The lighting was different, tones of purple and blue penetrating her vision. Her body felt at ease, her wounds seemingly healed. She checked them, pressing her fingers tentatively to her stomach and not feeling blood. In fact… she realized that her dress was no longer torn. Shock railed through her and she jumped to her feet. Amon wasn't on the ground.

"Amon," she whispered, whirling around. Her heart raced through her chest, beating so hard that she thought her ribs might fracture. "Amon!" she called out again, louder, panic filling her voice.

"Korra." The sound of his voice behind her, confused and eloquent, forcibly made her heart stall.

She threw herself at him, relief flooding through her. Her arms hooked around his neck as she pulled herself into his chest. Amon's harms wrapped around her waist, almost tentatively, when she felt his lips against her ear.

"So I am dead," he rasped. Korra went rigid and began to shake her head violently. Her lips sunk into an exposed area of his neck, which was mostly concealed by his collared shirt, and she let out a choked cry.

"No," she insisted, as if she were trying to reassure herself. "You aren't dead."

"Don't lie to me Korra," he asserted weakly. "Not now."

A sob fell from her lips, but no tears. It was dry and frantic, her spiritual form not having the will to conjure anything else. "I can save you."

Korra felt Amon's lips brush the top of her head, trailing down until they were at her forehead. There, whispered something so quiet, so uncharacteristically serene: "Promise you won't forget me."

Korra glowered. "Why would I? _How _could I?" she demanded, her fists clenching the loose fabric of his shirt. She felt the seams tearing as she pulled him down so that their faces were level, their lips almost touching but Korra was far too jittery to entertain kissing him now. "I… I won't ever forget you." Her lips trembled, trying to force out what desperately needed to be said, as with finality, but her strength wavered and she let out a soft cry again.

"I love you too," he murmured under his breath. He was obviously stronger than her, but the rawness in his voice created the sense of a goodbye that Korra refused to acknowledge. "I don't want you to forget what I stood for. Not the bad things, but what I was trying to do."

Korra's eyebrows furrowed. "Balance." Amon nodded in affirmation, their foreheads pressing together and making Korra shiver deeper into his arms. "I can't balance anything, Aang couldn't help the nonbenders..."

"You are stronger than him," Amon said hardened certainty. "You must just remember… bending isn't the ultimate power." He closed his eyes and inhaled, pulling away from Korra but still holding her waist. "I am a waterbender."

With a nod, Korra frowned. "I know. And I know Yakone is your father."

His eyes widened "What?" Amon mumbled.

"Aang – he showed me a vision. Yakone, bloodbending, his bending being taken. And then an oddly familiar looking Watertribe kid named Meng…" Korra trailed off, unable to help the small smirk on her lips.

"Oh—" Amon broke off, side-glancing. "I see."

"It doesn't change anything though. I know _why_… not only because you were burned—" Korra stopped, realizing that Amon's face wasn't marred at all. Silken and smooth, her hand snapped through the air so she could touch his glossy skin. "Your scars…"

"Are not apparent in the Spirit World," Amon finished with a small shrug.

The reminded of where they were made Korra bite her lower lip. "So who are you then?" she muttered tiredly. "Are you the broken son of Yakone? The Equalist leader Amon? The spirit Meng? What is your real name?"

"They are all one in the same, why must you put a label on me?" Amon replied bitterly.

"I want to know who are. I want to know all of you," she rasped.

Amon thought for a moment, considering his words. "My _mother_, not my father, named me Noatak. For my uncle."

"Noatak," Korra breathed, the beauty of a Watertribe name on her tongue sweet. He cupped her cheek.

"Please, don't call me that, though," he said. "Amon is who I was when I met you."

"I was scared of you when I met you though," Korra admitted blandly.

"Fine then," he said in a tired voice. "Just think of me as Meng."

"You used that name… before," Korra murmured. "When you were burned."

He ignored the fact that she knew this. "I created that alias…when I desired to start anew. When I came to Republic City," he sighed, his lip curling into an annoyed expression, which faded as he went on. "That is how I want you to remember me: worriless, untained, unscarred…" he brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. "Can you do that?"

Korra would never forget the parts she loved about him, parts that lay under all three of his personas. It occurred to Korra that this was his dying wish: to be remembered for his purity, long lost, and not his faults and misguided actions. To please him, she forced a smile.

"Meng," she said, whispering as she leaned into his face. "I love you."

"I loved you before, and I'll love you again," he swore. He matched her smile, and it seemed forced as well. "Perhaps, next time, the spirits will be kinder and close the age gap a little."

"Yes, because the fact we were on opposite sides of a war is completely irrelevant," she laughed sarcastically.

He smirked. "It didn't stop us this time."

Their surroundings shifted, the colors fading into crystalline white and gold. Falling deeper into Amon's arms from her disorientation, she gasped. They were in the tearoom in Damen Shi. The glass room, filled with ice-like sculptures and molded with an air of transparency, transformed into a ballroom, void of the terror that haunted Korra's memories of the beautiful place. Korra looked down and smiled as she took in Amon's sudden change of wardrobe: a Watertribe-style suit that she could never imagine an Equalist leader wearing.

"Dapper," she giggled.

Korra was obviously still wearing her glittering blue dress from her party. He bent down to her ear and growled, "Ravishing."

Then music started to play.

Soft, slow, a melody that was quite familiar to both of them. Darkened pianos intertwined with bright jazz instrumentals, creating the most intriguing yet strange orchestra around them. Amon tried to smile, but it fell from his lips as the dark tones of the music reminded them that this was barely real. Korra wanted to savor every second that she could at least imagine being in Amon's arms. She fell into step with him, as he tugged her across the empty dance floor.

She cried silently into his shoulder, where he could not see her eyes. Though Amon knew that she was shedding many tears – he could feel them soaking through his jacket and onto his skin.

It was easier for Amon to accept his demise, when he knew that Korra would soon find him again. Perhaps with a different face or name, much like he had found her. The wait, however, would be more tedious, considering it would literally be a lifetime.

Korra envied Amon, because she would have to survive without him. She accepted that she would probably marry, have children, and live on as any woman – Avatar or not – was expected to. Would she feel guilty when she found someone else? Although she couldn't picture it, she couldn't deny the probability. She choked on a sob, realizing that even at eighteen – _only eighteen – _she wanted the impossible future with Amon. Marriage. Children.

The music cascaded down the hall, and they were weightless. Korra could feel herself being pulled away – that or Amon being tugged into a more suitable afterlife – and struggled to maintain herself. Before it was too late, she threw her arms around Amon's neck and pulled him in for a chaste, yet deep, kiss. She was met with equally yielding lips with no barriers or reservations.

"Happy Birthday," he whispered against her lips, before she felt no weight in her arms, or breath against her face.

**.**

**.**

In the end, as Korra felt herself evaporating and entering a blinding white light, their goodbye wasn't the worst. It could have been worse. That last kiss was her saving grace, the sensation would never die.

It was when Korra passed through the gate between the catacombs of her mind and soul and the realm where her body existed, did the pain in her chest set in. Her lower lip trembled as she closed Amon's blue eyes, fingertips trailing down his face in a dangerously lingering way.

_The Avatar cannot save everyone_, she chanted in her mind. Of all the one-liner lessons, she finally understood. From the moment Aang chose to let Yakone live… Amon was destined to have a tragic end. A life is not simply saved, but their doom transferred to another.

**.**

**.**

The night of Korra's eighteenth birthday proved to be the most violent night in Republic City's history. She gave herself little time to truly grieve before finally rising to her feet, the eternal energy filling her as she rose high above the city in a vortex of elements. Korra extinguished every pillar of flame in the city with a knowing wave of her hands. The smoke bowed, and the skies cleared revealing the night sky.

**.**

**.**

Once the calm settled, Korra found herself standing before a pile of rubble. Where the City Hall once stood.


	18. Epilogue Rebirth

**_A/N:_ **For the part of me that needs some semblance of a happy ending.

* * *

**.**

**.**

**-/ Epilogue /-**

******.**

**.**

The cycle of the Avatar, as it always did and always will, began anew.

For Amon, the years waiting for his reunion were long. Tedious, even, as he was aware that Korra had moved on. She found love, she had children, and she grew older. She changed, but was ultimately the same. Compassionate and strong, Korra never ceased to be the Avatar.

Amon could feel her last breath, and he inhaled as she exhaled. He stood in the seam, facing west, the gateway between life and death, and a smile spread across on his lips. The spirits had granted him this privilege, to not only greet her on the other side, but to leave with her as well.

Leave with her, meaning to be _reborn _with her. He had done little to deserve happiness in his next life… or perhaps the reward was hers. Several past lives of suffering and grief, the Avatar deserved another chance at pure, unadulterated happiness.

With a flash of light and a wave of music, Korra suddenly stood before him. No different from the way she did the last time he'd been in her presence. A hush brushed over them, her expression unbelieving.

"Amon," she breathed, frozen. Amon made his way toward her, not hesitating to place a hard, euphoric kiss on her lips. He cupped her cheeks, fingers twirling into her loose brown hair that dangled down her shoulders. She squeaked with surprise, but soon melted into him and wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him down further.

After a few moments of burning, freezing, and electrifying contact, Amon pulled away. "It's time," he told her in a low, dripping voice.

Without asking, she knew.

Amon grasped her hand, their fingers lacing together and they faced the east horizon. Here, passing through the vein separating two worlds, they rose to a new day, a new life. In the short time between their rebirth and their arrival, they saw each other. Hundreds of lives, hundreds of Avatars—once they churned in an eternal dance. Somehow, they lost their way, their destinies diverted.

No longer, though. Entangled again, were the Avatar and her lover.

And together, in the next life, they would be.


End file.
